


The In-Between

by QuietLittleLives



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:17:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 353,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3398273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietLittleLives/pseuds/QuietLittleLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichabod and Abbie doing an absolutely terrible job of keeping their friendship, just a friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Our House ( In the Middle of Our Street)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I have a good deal of this story written, and I hope to update often. This is my very first fanfiction, and I welcome feedback and constructive criticism, but please be kind. Keep in mind that I'm an artist and I'm sensitive about my ish. :-) JK lol. I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it, please forgive any grammatical errors. Also the rating is for later chapters.
> 
> Thanks!

It’s nearly seven o’clock on a quiet Tuesday evening, and she knows who’s calling before she bothers to look at the phone. Not because he’s the only one who calls, because he isn’t, but she knows it’s him nonetheless, it’s just a feeling.

“Crane.” She answers evenly.

“Good evening Miss Mills, I hope my call finds you well.” She can hear him smiling into the phone, and she naturally smiles back.

“It does” she replies honestly, and he immediately voices his pleasure in hearing her confirmation. After that he’s silent, and she knows what he’s thinking, exactly why he’s called, but she also knows that he won’t outright say it.

“Do you need anything,” she asks to break the silence, even though she's certain that he doesn’t. They’d gone grocery shopping the day before, and gotten him all the food and new personal effects he needed. Not to mention she’d dropped him off at the cabin just five hours before. He was calling because he missed her or maybe not her but the comfort of her presence, and she knew this because she missed his too. They worked constantly, so much so that she couldn’t clearly recall the last night they’d spent apart. Generally by quitting time, she only had enough energy to drive them to one location, either the cabin or her apartment, so they’d grown accustomed to being together. Growing up as she did, she got used to spending time on her own, and even though she always missed Jenny, that alone time was once a comfort to her. But now she sat on the couch and missed his presence in the reading chair just beside it. It felt too quiet because Jenny was out, and he wasn’t there making that humming noise he makes whenever he reads something interesting, or spouting off about historical inaccuracies in whatever program he happened to be viewing.

“There was a coupon in the sales paper for one dollar discount deducted from the brand of paper towel you prefer. I cut it out for you.” She heard him say on the other end of the line.

"You’re calling me about coupons Crane?” her voice alleging that she knew it was something more, even though she was the self-appointed coupon queen. He responded by reciting a phrase he’d heard her repeat often.

“A penny saved is a penny earned.” Abbie laughed out loud, and he felt a bit strange for how happy it made him.

“Okay.” She said a slight giggle still present in her voice.

“I could bring it to you.” He offered.

“Tonight?” she questioned a little surprised. Ichabod’s heart sped up, of course she didn’t want to see him, they had only parted company a few hours ago. She was a beautiful, intelligent, woman, perhaps she had plans for the evening. _Say no, tell her you meant in the morrow. Say no, say no, say no!_

“Yes.” He slapped his forehead with his hand, and held his breath awaiting her response. Abbie wound a stray thread from her shirt around her finger. “Crane, its already late it will take you an hour to get here by bus.” His heart sank a little. “Yes of course.” She was quiet for a moment on the other end of the line before speaking.

“I’ll come and get it.” She said quietly.

“Lieutenant, I could give it to you tomorrow if you have plans or a prior engagement that calls your attention this evening.” He couldn’t help feeling like such a bother. He had made a few friends in Sleepy Hollow, mainly from his involvement with a reenactment group, but still, Abbie was the only person that helped him to not feel so alone.

“I could be there in thirty.”

“Very well, I’ll see you then.” Ichabod hangs up the phone and hurries to put on a pot of coffee. Just hearing Abbie’s voice put him into a relaxed mood. That’s what he called her in his head, ‘Abbie’. He never said it out loud of course, that would have been entirely improper, but within his inner-world he never thought Lieutenant or Miss Mills. There she was always Abbie, and on some days, the ones when she said or did something that truly upended him, or when the light hit her face in just the right way….the days in which he was ashamed to admit that he forgot that he was married, if even for the briefest of moments, on those days he called her Grace. He sat reading for a while awaiting her arrival, and it didn’t feel like long before he heard the noise of her engine just outside. He stood and opened the door, even though she had a key, and even though it wasn’t locked.

“Evening.” She hummed stepping over the threshold. He noticed she carried a small bag of her personal effects she always brought when she stayed at the cabin. He smiled inside knowing that she would be there when he fell asleep, and still when he woke up.

“You’ll be sleeping over?” He asked already knowing the answer.  She cocked her head to the side. He knew full well she was sleeping over.

“Right, I’ll prepare the bedroom for you.” He offered taking her bag. Abbie shook her head. “Nope we’re not going to do this tonight, I am going to sleep on the foldout bed” she pointed at the couch, “because you’re too long for it, end of story.” Ichabod tried to interject but Abbie raised her hand and repeated “end of story”. Ichabod knew that she wouldn’t bend on the subject, so for once he decided to drop it.

“Very well.” He agreed. Abbie walked over to the chess board and took a seat at the table.

“I get to be brown tonight.” Ichabod raised an eyebrow. “You were brown last time.” He took a seat opposite her.

“And I get to be brown again, so that means you’re cream.” She declared. “I can’t stay up too late tonight though, I have to leave early in the morning.”

“Oh” he said trying to mask his disappointment. “I believed you to have the day off.”

“I do,” she said moving one of her pawns, “but Jenny and I are meeting with the realtor in the morning, I finally decided on a house, so with any luck I’ll be moving into my very own home.” Abbie’s eyes sparkled as she spoke, Ichabod knew how important owning her own home was to her.

“Congratulation’s Miss Mills, the ownership of property is a signal of security, you should be very proud.” He commended, pushing his game piece along the board.

“Security” she laughed lightly. “I’m not sure if there is such a thing, but I am proud nonetheless. You’re welcome to come with us you know, in fact, I think you should.”

“To meet with the realtor, I would be honored to accompany you.” He admitted.  Abbie looked across the table at him. “And into the home.” She said hesitantly. “You’re welcome to move in…with us.”

“Oh.” He sat quietly for a moment staring at her across the board. He was excited about the prospect of residing with his dearest friend, but the times that he came from were still very much a part of who he was. Even though they spent every night together anyhow, they were technically not living together.

“I am unsure of how it may be perceived, a man living alone with two unmarried women. Even now, the way in which we….our sleeping patterns” he decided upon, “I will not have your propriety questioned, nor Miss Jenny’s.”

“You know times have changed, we’re friends, no one is going to question my virtue, and even if they did, I’d tell them to go to hell.” She took his bishop with her rook. “Check.”

Ichabod looked down at the board quite surprised. Abbie reasoned that he must have been lost in thought because that was a move he would have seen coming seven plays away. He evaded her attack. He looked over at her trying to recall precisely when this bond between them was forged. When he first woke in the cave everything in this world was wholly foreign, and she was the first and only person he was drawn to. But soon her presence evoked a different sort of feeling in him, one that he had never experienced. At first it worried him that he felt this gravitational pull towards a woman who was not his wife. If he had to pinpoint one day, he probably first realized it the day she took him to a baseball game, and later that evening when she saved his life. There was this indescribable joy whenever she was present, a happiness so foreign that it almost felt like a feeling that belonged to someone else. He felt awkward because of it. Somewhere between then and now he had gone from not feeling like himself when she was around, to not feeling like himself when she wasn’t.

“In that case, I would be doubly honored.” His blue eyes fixed upon her. She flashed him a warm smile. “Great!” her smiled faded and was replaced with a look of complete satisfaction. “Check mate.” She declared.

“Miss Mills!” Ichabod exclaimed sitting forward.

 

*****

 

“Here you are Lieutenant one cream two sugars, precisely the way you like it.” Ichabod said holding out a Styrofoam cup.” Abbie grabbed it and immediately took a sip of the sweet steamy liquid.

“Thanks Crane, you’re a life saver. I can’t believe Irving is making us come in for this after we were up all night. It’s not like we couldn’t be debriefed tomorrow or at least later this afternoon.”

”Oh,” Irving appeared in the now open doorway to his office, “you mean like later this afternoon after the mayor has read me a new one, or probably after the press has torn me to shreds, come in and take a seat.” Ichabod and Abbie strolled into the captain’s office closing the door behind them.

“Do you know the press thinks this was some sort of terror bombing—I have federal agents looking into this matter now, how do I explain this?” He shout whispered.

“It would be the least successful terror bombing in history, absolutely no one was hurt.” Abbie replied grimacing.

“Actually Miss Mills that isn’t entirely accurate, the world has been relieved of one rather obnoxious demon, Abbadon.” Ichabod corrected.

“Who?” Irving asked.

“Abbadon, the demon charged with setting forth an army of locust to dine on the flesh of mankind”. Abbie answered.

“And it took the destruction of the equivalent of five square city blocks to get rid of him?” Irving questioned sarcastically.

“Yes! Abbie and Ichabod answered in unison.

“It’s not like it was actual city blocks. We were in the woods in the middle of nowhere.” Abbie protested.

“Well tree’s fell and everyone heard.” He replied.

“May I be frank Captain, no pun intended?” Ichabod asked.  Irving leaned back into his chair and threw his hands up. “Be my guest”

“What would you have us do sir? We were minutes if not mere seconds from him completing a ritual that would have led to the death of every man, woman, and child in a 60 mile radius by nightfall. I understand that it can be somewhat difficult to explain the explosion and correspondingly the obliteration of such a vast area, but do you not believe that it would have been aboundingly more difficult to explain the presence of the locusts?” Ichabod argued.  Abbie took a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah what he said” she stated peeking over her cup. “Look Captain there was no other way, it had to happen.”

Irving leaned back in his chair mumbling under his breath. “Locust…….demons……had to happen. Fine, just…fine. I’ll figure something out to handle the press. So this particular situation is over now right, you got him?”

“Hmmm, yes and no.” Ichabod responded.

“What do you mean yes and no, which is it?” Irving asked sitting up in his chair.

“He means that we got the demon, but we still have to track down the witch that was controlling him.” Abbie answered.

“Oh that’s just perfect. Look just head home, get some rest and let me know when you have her, and please try not to burn down half of the city when you’re catching her. Just as Abbie and Ichabod reach for the door Irving calls to them.

“Wait a minute, what exactly did you guys use to cause that explosion anyway?” He asked.  Abbie shrugged her shoulders and replied wryly “C4”.

“Where in the hell did you two get--forget I asked, I don’t even want to know.”

As soon as they’re out the door Ichabod tells Abbie that he has a few things he needs to take care of and he’d meet her at home. When she prods to see if it’s something she could help him with or somewhere she can take him he quickly shuts her down.

“OOOkay.” She crooned. “Do you need money for the bus fare or anything?” A couple police officers passing by them smile and nod, and they return in kind. He takes Abbie by the elbow and leads her out of the way of traffic.

“Miss Mills, I do not require any funds, nor transportation, you’ve already done so much for me. You worked the early shift yesterday and then worked again with me for the remainder of the night. I find myself fatigued so surely you must be exhausted. Please,” his hand slid from her elbow and clasped around her fingers, “go home and take rest, I will be there later this evening.”

She sighed, but what could she say he was a grown man. “Alright, you have your cell right?” He nodded and spoke his confirmation. “I do.”

“Well call me if you need anything.” She said eyeing him curiously.

“I will.” He promised.

“Ok, well I’m outta here.” She said moving away. They held to each other’s hand until their distance caused them to let go. “Until tonight” he called.

“K” She grinned throwing a hand up to wave, not bothering to turn around. It wasn’t until she closed in on the exit that she seen Luke glaring at Crane disapprovingly. It was then that she realized what that exchange must have looked like. Even though she knew it was innocent, she felt embarrassed by what people might think, this was her place of work after all. It was already hard enough for a woman in her position to be respected without adding anything to it. It was known that she had dated Luke even though they kept their relationship completely professional at work. Luke’s menacing glare was not lost on Ichabod who returned it with added venom, until he finally looked away. As soon as Abbie was out of sight Ichabod returned to Irving’s office. He understood that he was quite busy what with running a police force and all, but this simply couldn’t wait.

“Crane?” he asked more than said. “I thought I gave you the rest of the day off?”

“Yes, about that. It is difficult for me to ask this of you, as I am accustomed to making my own way. However the circumstance of having slept for the past two-hundred years has rendered me unable to complete such a task. Aside from the Lieutenant and Miss Jenny, you are my only friend, and it is my understanding that you have friends of elevated standing. Perhaps they would lend themselves to do a favor for you, which I pray that you in turn will do for me.”

Irving could tell it took a lot for Crane to come to him. “What do you need?” He asked curiously.  Ichabod leaned forward pulling a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and rose to hand it to the Captain. “There is a position over at the university for an Adjunct Professor of History. I have been searching on the World Wide Web for employment and this was posted only yesterday. I have no official papers, identification, or work history, but I was set to take on a professorship at Oxford before my joining the war.” He retook his seat taking notice of the degrees that sat on the wall behind Irving. “I can assure you that I am qualified for this position, I received my doctorate from Oxford though of course it was many, many years ago. Still I have been studying and reading everything to become up to date. Further the first courses that I would be teaching are European history and Humanities”

“—Crane,” Irving interrupted, “I believe you, I’ve worked with you, I know how intelligent you are. I just didn’t know that you had time to work, I mean outside of the work you’re already doing, you know, saving the world from destruction.”

“Miss Mills does it every day.” He replied placing his hands on his knees.

“You’re right, she does.” Irvin said shaking his head.

“Further Miss Jenny, is unable to maintain gainful employment due to the fact that her role in this war continually pulls her away. I am sure you are aware the Lieutenant recently purchased a home.”

“I am, I even got the dinner invitation to prove it.” He relayed.

“Well being a home owner I am certain you understand the myriad of unexpected expenses that can come with that responsibility. I need to work. I need to do more for her—to assist her, even if my wage is only such that it allows me to relieve her of the obligation of covering my financial expenses. If you can help me attain the proper documentation, I will remain forever in your debt.” Irving leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips in contemplation. He picked up his phone and dialed out.

“Hey it’s me, I need a favor.”  Ichabod’s once worried eyes lit up as a look of sheer relief covered his face.

 

 

 


	2. Unpacking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next three chapter were all originally one chapter which was far too long, so I split it up, but I'm loading it all today. These also were some of the first chapters I wrote, so please bear with me. This particular chapter is really flashback heavy, so as they are unpacking a lot of story is being unpacked as well. Also I tend to italicize thoughts. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

 

 

“Well I think that’s all of it.” Abbie exhaled loading the last of Crane’s shirts into his new chest of drawers. She glanced over at him, watching as he arranged the candles on his nightstand. She often looked upon him bewildered at how well he was faring being so far flung from home. She looked around his room quietly admiring the simplicity with which he lived his life. Everything in its proper place, and all of those things serving a purpose. She laughed to herself thinking simple would be _the_ _last_ word she would choose to describe Ichabod Crane, or his life for that matter. _But still_ , she thought, _everything he owns could easily fit into this chest of drawers._ She drug her fingers across the smooth wood. He had roughly a few weeks’ worth of clothing. A small variation of tops she had meticulously (or as Jenny would say obsessively) matched to his bottoms. Still his favorite outfits were his seventeenth century pieces which he wore every chance he got. On the other hand, Abbie’s favorite combination was his one and only pair of jeans, paired with his gray tee under his dark blue button down shirt.   As if his eyes weren’t already enchanting enough, there was something magical that happened every time they were set against these colors. She thought back to the day she bought them. She wasn’t ready. The problem was she didn’t know it until he was standing in front of her with his sleeves rolled up, and his hair hanging down. If she would have prepared herself, even just a little, then maybe she wouldn’t have gotten so flustered. Maybe she would have answered him one of the first two times he asked her if she held the outfit in “favorable regard.” Instead, she didn’t hear him, and as soon as she realized she’d spaced out, she overcorrected and stumbled over her words like an idiot. This would have been enough but hell she never did anything halfway, so for good measure, she dropped the clothes she was holding, and managed to spill her purse when she tried to pick them up. He tried to come and help her with her things, but Jenny shooed him off, telling him the outfit was a keeper. As soon as he reentered the dressing room Jenny had instantly started in.

“So those Ralph Lauren’s were nice, you sure you can afford those jeans?”

“Yeah,” Abbie responded gathering her things, “They’re on sale, and I have this coupon.” She added fumbling through her purse.

“I’m not talking about your pocketbook Bells,” Jenny winked and folded her arms across her chest. Jenny had called Abbie Bells since they were kids. When she was young she had a difficult time pronouncing g’s and a terrible lisp, so she often referred to her sister as Abbibells, before eventually shortening it to Bells.  

“What are you--? Oh come on! For the record your mind’s in the gutter, not mine.” Abbie replied dismissively.

“Uhm-hmmm. Keep telling yourself that.” Jenny said.

Abbie wanted to tell Jenny how ridiculous she was being. She wanted to make it clear that she felt absolutely nothing for Crane, well at least outside the bounds of friendship. But she couldn’t. The same way she couldn’t tell her that she’d sensed his presence a dozen times long before he had ever arrived in Sleepy Hollow. She had dreamed of him at least once a year _every_ year since seeing Moloch in the woods. When she was younger it was always the same dream. She and the then mystery man, whose face remained obscure, walked through a massive library that soon became an enormous maze. In each dream they would enter the maze together but would inevitably become separated. At this point she would wake up breathless, sweaty—panicked. She didn’t know who he was, but she knew she would never escape the maze without him. Then there was the dream she had the year she turned twenty. Abbie could barely remember that dream without her lips parting to accommodate the increase of oxygen she found herself needing. The things he did to her body—the things she allowed him to do to her body. The awkwardness of waking next to her then boyfriend Collin, moaning, mid-orgasm still feeling this mystery man’s touch between her thighs, and breathless whispers in her ear, “ _Abbie, my love, wait for me, wait for me Abbie”_.

She would never forget that voice. Shortly after meeting Ichabod she reasoned that the dreams were simply God’s way of preparing her to trust someone she otherwise would not. And she did—trust him, surprisingly, from the moment she met him. It’s not like she’d just go traipsing around a dark cave with any other inmate suspected of murder. She could still hear her mother’s pleas to her and Jenny, “Trust no one, trust no one, only each other, we are all we’ve got.” Even though she knew her mother was crazy, trusting Crane as she did, still felt like a tiny betrayal. But she couldn’t stop, he made things different…he made her different. He had a special way of making her feel more alive, like somehow his presence made living matter more. More importantly, when he told her that everything would be okay, that _they_ would be okay, she believed him. She believed _in_ him. Outside of Jenny, she had never trusted anyone that way. She never spoke of the dreams to anyone, not to Jenny, not to Corbin, and especially not to Ichabod Crane.

 

They had been packing and settling every spare moment for the last few days, and things were finally beginning to feel like home. Abbie had taken a one week vacation from work, after they failed to get much unpacking done the week before. Unfortunately she couldn’t take a vacation from being a witness, but luckily they hadn’t had too many disturbances.

“Well I’m finished unpacking my room. What do you guys want to do for food? Jenny questioned leaning through the doorway.

“You just started your room, how could you possibly be done?” Abbie interrogated.

“Efficiency, I travel lightly because it’s easier to pack up when it’s time to hit the road.” She answered plopping down on Ichabod’s bed.

“Trick I picked up while bouncing from one foster care to another.” Abbie glared at her displeased. Being the oldest she had always felt a responsible for Jenny’s welfare. She blamed herself for not being able to shield her from some of the pains that she had lived through. Being the younger sister Jenny sought to remind her of her failing from time to time. Ichabod interjected sensing another sisterly spat brewing.

“I am rather fond of the restaurant we visited last week, the one with the inebriated noodles.”

“Thai. We’ll take two drunken noodles, both with chicken, one mild, and one…um actually both mild, and that’s it.” Abbie handed her sister a few bills.

Jenny raised her eyebrows inquisitively. “Since when do you not want fire level spice—oh, never mind.” Jenny said as her eyes darted towards Ichabod. She tucked the money into her pocket, and walked out shaking her head. She simply chalked this up to one of the many changes her sister had undergone in what she secretly referred to as PI- or the post Ichabod era. Jenny noticed a multitude of transformations in Abbie. Some were subtle and seemingly unimportant, like randomly switching her spice preference when ordering Thai. Others were more glaring, like allowing Ichabod entrance into a world they used to share all their own.   This was quite a departure from Abbie’s normal behavior when it came to building relationships with others. She kept everyone at two arms lengths and then some. Corbin had been the only exception. Jenny loved Ichabod, he was family as far as she was concerned, still there were times when she entered the room with Icky and Abbie and couldn’t help feeling like a third wheel, like she was interrupting something.

The three of them living together was going to take some getting used to, but in reality it was their best option. Their new house was located in a nice little suburban area, most of which was new development as opposed to the more historical looking homes in town. Abbie really loved the older style homes, but it was something about this place that they all fell for. It was a little pricey, but still a bargain for what they got. She had been saving her pennies for quite a long while, and reasoned if she might possibly only be alive for another six years, she would at least have the home she’d always wanted. When she was a little girl she had dreamed of living in a house like this. It was a large three story home in pristine condition, complete with four bedrooms, four and a half baths, and a nicely finished basement. There was plenty of room for all of them, and best of all was the super-sized backyard enclosed by some of the largest pine and oak trees she had ever seen. Abbie had even ordered a twenty inch round of elm to be set up so Ichabod was able to split wood when he pleased. Every time she stood in front of the grand stair case or under the vaulted ceilings she was riddled with happiness and pride that she was able to afford it. She’d nearly emptied her life savings, but it was well worth it.

“It seems that Miss Jenny was a bit perturbed by your order.”  Ichabod said walking closer to Abbie.

“I know, she’s been acting a little weird lately.” Abbie slid her thumbs into her back pockets. Abbie knew why Jenny was bothered by the way she wanted her food, but hello it was _her_ food, it wasn’t like she was going to eat it. Ichabod on the other hand had finished her dish the last two times she ordered it.   Abbie could only eat half of it, and Ichabod was always ready for a snack before nights end. She laughed to herself remembering when she’d accidently given him her leftover dish without warning him about the spiciness. She heard him screaming from the next room. A half a gallon of milk later Abbie was still laughing at him.

“I’m happy to be the subject of your extreme amusement, Miss Mills, never mind that I’m still unable to feel the presence of mine own tongue.” He’d stated numbly.

“Aww, I’m so sorry Crane”, Abbie admitted, feeling slightly guilty for laughing, “but if you only could have seen your face.” She’d teased reaching up and squeezing his chin. She missed those days. The good old days when she could be close to him, or touch him without feeling like she was doing something wrong, or inappropriate. Things were so much easier between them then, whereas now she had to keep her hands in her back pocket as a reminder not to touch him. She didn’t know when things had shifted, but they had, and try as she may she couldn’t get them to shift back.

Abbie grabbed a box of books that were mistakenly placed in Ichabod’s room and headed down towards the den. Though she couldn’t accurately pinpoint the shift in her feelings for him, she remembered the exact moment she became aware of it **.** It was roughly three months ago, and marked the one year anniversary of when Crane first came to Sleepy Hollow. The pair sat hours past supper commiserating about everything they had experienced throughout the year, multiple near misses, and miraculous escapes. Corbin’s death. She’d cried some, he comforted her, and eventually they toasted spirits and laughed deliriously about the conundrum of them still being alive. That’s when Ichabod fell silent and slumped back into his chair.

“I have been returned to life a full year and Katrina yet lingers in purgatory.” He said looking down into his nearly empty glass. Abbie leaned across the table until their eyes were locked.

“You have been doing _everything_ you can. All of this work is not for nothing Crane, it will eventually help you to free Katrina.” She said hoping to encourage him. It was at that time that Ichabod truly opened up in detail about Katrina and their life together. How she had stolen his heart and chosen him over what surely would have been a life of higher social standing. Problem is, when he got to the part about his undying love for her, Abbie started to feel—well awful. She shifted uneasily in her chair trying to stifle the unsettling pain in the center of her stomach. She quickly discounted it as the reaction to too many glasses of wine, however she soon noticed the pain was growing in direct proportion to his tales of love. It was late, and she was drunk, so it really didn’t hit her until the next morning that the feeling she’d felt was jealousy. She remembered lying there gazing at the ceiling trying to make sense of these new feelings she was having. She failed miserably. She pulled her hands to her forehead and eventually lost count of how many times she asked her ceiling ‘what the fuck’.

Abbie pulled another box into the study and began unpacking. Married men, no matter how attractive, had always been a complete turn off for her. She’d known girls who’d gotten tangled up with them before, and she tried not to judge, but she would never do it. After all she’d always imagined that if her father hadn’t left the family for another woman, her mother wouldn’t have gone bat shit crazy, and she and Jenny wouldn’t have wound up in foster care. As soon as she realized she might feel something more for Ichabod, she made a decision to bury those feelings, and plant a lovely garden of denial over the top of them. Unfortunately her feelings had a mind of their own, and she couldn’t control them, or will herself not to feel—at least not with him. But she could control her actions. Most days it was easy enough, but the random off guard moments she never saw coming were much more difficult to overcome. Like earlier this week when she was putting some baskets on top of the kitchen cupboards, and somehow managed to slip off the counter top. Ichabod who was getting ready to pour a glass of water reached out and caught her. One moment she was decorating, and the next she was wrapped in his arms, well some parts of her, others were more so in his hands. At first it was innocent, funny even. The curse she was screaming when she started falling turned to laughter as she wrapped a leg around his waist for support.

“Oh my God, thank you.” She giggled loosening her arms from around his neck.

“Tis my honor.” He’d replied. He’d repositioned his hand removing it from her bottom and placing it around her waist. She was flabbergasted when he put his other hand behind the knee of her hanging leg, and pulled it up around his waist to join her other one.

“Crane,” she said so much breathier than she meant to.  

“Yes.” He answered quietly, inches from her face.

“I think you can put me down now.”

He turned his eyes to hers. “I cannot.” At that point it was impossible for Abbie to disguise the fact that her heart was doing somersaults, she didn’t even try. Her shoulders heaved up and down viscously, as her breath came out in rapid spurts. She turned her head and stared to the side of the room, afraid of what might be coming next.

“Why not?” she heard her voice ask. He kept his hand around her waist, and slid the other one underneath her thigh. The edge of his pointer finger rested just at the bottom of her butt. Instead of answering her, he held her tighter and started walking. _Where are we going, what are we doing, how is this happening. It can’t, it’s wrong, I have to say something! She thought._ Just when she was about to speak up he stopped, set her on the kitchen table, and stepped from between her legs. He brushed his thumb over her knee.

“There is shattered glass on the floor,” he said glancing down towards her bare feet, “wait here while I obtain your shoes. As soon as he left Abbie looked across the kitchen at the broken glass, with all the commotion she hadn’t even noticed he dropped it. Even though her mind now understood what had transpired, that he was protecting her, and not coming on to her, her body didn’t get the memo. Her pupils were wide, her nipples were taut, and her panties were soiled with desire.   

Still, the worst of such moments had occurred a few months before. At times Crane could show a complete disregard for personal space. She didn’t know if it was normal throughout his era, or whether it was simply do to his comfort level with her. He would often lean in closely to see, or read over her shoulder. There were times when he leaned forward so enthralled in whatever they were reading that he barely noticed the tendrils of his hair brushing against her cheek. But she always did.

“Oh.” He would say immediately straightening his posture “I beg your pardon Miss Mills, I seemed to have once again infringed upon your personal space.” Personal space, a term she didn’t think he knew the meaning of until she took the time to explain it to him.

“It’s okay”, she usually said, but it wasn’t. On one occasion, when she was feeling particularly moody, she snapped on him. They were reading in the archives and she hadn’t noticed that he had come to look over her shoulder. She had no idea he was standing just behind her when she bent her back over the table into a deep stretch. The curve of her rear poked up directly into his groin. Everything happened rapidly, she felt him standing strong against her, and simultaneously heard a gasp rush from his mouth. She sprang up in record speed and turned to face him, already hearing the start of his apology. The way she glared at him caused him to fall silent. She was pissed but for a moment the only thing she could think of was how good and strong he felt behind her, and now how sexy he looked standing in front of her. She was turned on, so once again her fucking panties were ruined. She didn’t remember everything she said to him that day, but she knew it started with “Damn it Crane” and ended with “some fucking space.” She had never cursed at him before, there was never any reason to. His eyes narrowed on her and she could see the hurt and anger behind them. But she didn’t know how pissed he was until he called her by her name.

“Abbie.” He stated with the reprimanding tone of a seventh grade science teacher.

“What! She shouted at him still too pissed, too moody, and too horny to give a shit.

Being the gentleman that he was, he simply shook his head, grabbed his jacket and walked out of the archives. He didn’t come back. She tried calling his cell, but he wouldn’t answer. Hours later she got a call from Jenny stating he had shown up at the apartment, and asking why they were beefed out.

“Did you ask him? What did he say?

“Not too much, he did say that you were the most maddening woman he had ever encountered, so naturally I asked are you seriously just now realizing that.”

“Thanks for calling Jen.”

Abbie felt a little relieved. Even though he was angry she knew he still wanted to see her, if he didn’t, then he would have gone to the cabin.   So on her way home from work she stopped and picked up his favorite food, and ice cream. He and Jenny were laughing playing Mario Kart when she came in.  

“Hey.” She said.

“Hey Bells,” Jenny said throwing her hands up in victory. "Look Icky you didn’t even make the podium."  She teased.

“Well seeing as you have had loads of practice, due to the fact that you regularly operate your real life motor vehicle in the same manner, I think I fared rather well.”

“Whatever dude, winners win.” Jenny smirked standing into a stretch. “Mmm something smells good, I’m starving.” Sensing the tension between them she grabbed the bags, kissed and thanked Abbie, and headed into the kitchen.

“Hi.” She said again noticing Ichabod never replied. “I brought Szechuan chicken, and strawberry ice-cream.

“I do not feel much like eating.” He replied not looking away from the television. She walked in front of it.

“Crane, I didn’t mean it. I was just...having a bad day.” She pleaded.

He put the remote on the end table and stood. “I understand that you had a different life before I awoke here, complete with different aims, and goals and other…friends.” She could hear the repressed venom in his voice. This is what she worried about, her private feelings hurting their friendship. It wasn’t his fault the way her body reacted to his touch, he didn’t do anything wrong, and she completely lost it on him.

She looked him in the eyes. “That’s not it I just…” She bit the side of her lip, what could she tell him? That she felt like she was finally getting a handle on her feelings for him, and as soon as she felt him behind her, all of that progress she thought she was making was revealed for the fallacy it was. Or maybe she’d tell him that she was afraid she was falling in love with him, and she didn’t think she would be able to stop.

“If you desire space, or if my constant presence is somehow a hindrance or bother to you then all you must do is give me fair warning before it becomes so upsetting.” He spit the words out as if they spoiled in his mouth. She could tell that he was really hurting. Abbie tried to speak but he stopped her. His tone softened.

“Forgive me for my inability to decipher when my company has worn on you, I suppose it would be easier for me to recognize if yours were to ever wear upon me. But since we’ve met, it has not, and I find it difficult to imagine that it ever could.”  

Abbie’s eyes were red from holding back tears. Whenever she had a problem he was the first person she confided in, but she couldn’t talk to him about this. So now there was this space between them, and it was filling him with doubt.

“Crane I am not tired of you, you’re as much a part of my life as Jenny.” She shook her head before stepping towards him. “I am so sorry, I need you to forgive me.”

Ichabod’s gaze fell to the floor, “I do,” before quickly returning to her. “Still the way in which you spoke to me earlier…I do not deserve it, and I will not accept it. Is that understood?”

_“Damn_ ” she thought, could he have been any more perfect for her. He was so kind and gentle, but at the same time strong, and proud.  Keeping these feelings at bay wasn’t going to be easy. She couldn’t believe that this man who paid for nothing, let alone ate, slept, and shit on her dime, was standing in the middle of her living room checking her about her behavior. Damn if Luke had ever commanded this sort of respect, they’re relationship might’ve worked out.

“Yeah, I understand, it won’t happen again.” Abbie said quietly, nodding to show him his message was received.

He hated how sad she was standing before him, looking up at him through tearful eyes. He would have done anything to make her smile. “May I have a reconciliatory hug?” He asked.

“You’re my best friend Crane, you don’t have to ask for hugs.”

He raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘oh really’ and Abbie immediately realized how crazy she sounded, after having just blown a gasket over ‘personal space’. She covered her face and laughed into her hands.

“I know, I’m such a mess.” He removed her hands from her face and started pulling her towards him. “No seriously, you should find new friends, you know mental instability runs in my family.” She joked as he held her close.

“I do not desire new friends Miss Mills, I already have the best of them all.” He said gripping her tighter. “I am sorry that you had a bad day. Is there something I can do?”

The side of her ear was pressed firmly against his chest causing his voice to reverberate. She shook her head against him.

“No, it was just one of those days.”

He pulled back because there was something in her voice the led him to believe she wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“Are you certain of that?” He asked searching her eyes. She looked up into his concerned blue eyes, and lied.

“I am.”

He nodded through his disbelief. “I pray tomorrow finds you better,” he paused bringing his hands behind her shoulders, “tell me honestly, shall I go to the cabin for a few days?” He asked quietly.

She squeezed him tight again before she pulled back and closed her hand around three of his fingers. “No” “Please don’t, I want you here, with us.” She motioned towards the kitchen where Jenny was. Abbie heard a low rumble come from his belly.

“Sure you’re not hungry?” she smiled.

“I suppose I could eat a little.”

Abbie raised her eyebrows. “A little?”

“I’m ravenous.” He admitted.

“C’mon let’s eat.” She didn’t let go of his hand until they got to the kitchen entryway.

Abbie had heard a saying long ago that you teach people how to treat you. That was the day she learned a little more about how to treat Ichabod. The sound of footsteps brought her from her thoughts. She turned to find Ichabod behind her clutching a glass of lemonade.

“Miss Mills, it looks fantastic in here, wonderful job.”

“Thanks, yeah it’s not too bad.” Abbie agreed looking around at her mostly unpacked study.

He glanced around the room happily. “Oh I almost forgot, I thought you might like a drink.” He said handing her the glass. Having just recounted their argument Abbie felt a pang of guilt all over again. He would never make her feel that way, unwanted, or unwelcome. She took a sip of her drink. “Crane.”

“Yes”

“I’m so happy you decided to move in with us, this place wouldn’t be the same without you.” She said nudging his arm with her elbow.

He smiled, and his eyes crinkled the way they always did when he was truly happy. “I cannot begin to express how elated I am to be here Miss Mills. Thank you so much for inviting me.

 

 

 

 


	3. Settling In

 

 

The next day Abbie knocked on Cranes door.

“Please come in.” She heard him call.

“Hey Jenny’s going to get subs. I just ordered your usual I hope that’s okay, because if not I can call her.”

“No that sounds good, a sandwich will do quite nicely.” He responded.

“Good.” She said. She saw that Ichabod had taken his suit from the closet and hung it on the front latch. “Getting ready for the big day huh?”

“I am.” He answered smiling broadly, stepping towards her.

“Miss Mills, thank you once more for all of these fine garments which you have so graciously supplied me. I am hopeful that my interview goes well so that I might be able to repay you.”

“Crane, its fine really, I was happy to do it, besides we can’t really have you running around modern day Sleepy Hollow in 17th century threads now can we?” Abbie quipped. Before Ichabod could reply she grabbed his jacket.

“Besides this is soooo last century,” she joked before reminding herself to keep her hands off of him.

Ichabod looked upon Abbie with great concern. “Miss Mills are you suggesting that my current attire is not on par with the present day manner of dress.” He asked.

“Oh Crane no, n no n no you’re fine, we have a job to do no one cares what you’re wearing I just wanted y,” realizing Ichabod turned away to hide his grin. “You’re awful!” Abbie jabbed slapping his shoulder.

Over time Ichabod had come to truly understand Abbie. He could read her as easily as words across a page. He knew instantly when she was joking, or serious, happy, sad, hungry, or tired, and he always knew when something was bothering her. As of late she had seemed not herself, almost timid, which contrasted sharply with the usual confidence she exuded.

“Miss Mills is there something troubling you? Is everything quite alright?” He questioned stepping closer and looming over her.

_No everything is not quite alright, Corbin’s dead, Brooks’ is undead, Jenny still resents me for not telling the truth, the end of the world is coming, and I fight demons. Not theoretical buried within myself demons, ACTUAL DEMONS. And the only thing I can think about when I’m not thinking about all of that is sitting on top of your penis. “_ Mm hmm, yeah everything’s fine.” Abbie replied tucking her bang behind her ear.   She moved away feigning attention to dust she’d spotted on a mirror, she grabbed the duster from his dresser. “I had some doubts about all of us living together that’s all, but I think we’ll manage okay.”

“Well I must admit when you first suggested such cohabitation, I thought it was largely improper. Ichabod said.

“No.” She said smugly

“Indeed. I was worried that you and your sister would be subject to ridicule by such a living arrangement. However, I now understand that the equalitarian advancements of women have changed the social normalcies of civil society. Men and women who have platonic relationships can share lodgings without others questioning the nature of their relationship or the assumption that they are bedfellows. It’s really quite remarkable.”

Abbie straightened her back and held her feather duster upright. “Remarkable indeed, that is precisely what I was thinking,” Abbie smirked donning her best English accent.

“You mock me?” He questioned moving closer.

“Of course not.” Abbie replied moving to the other side of the bed almost daring him to give chase, which he quickly accepted.

“And now you’re being coy,” he laughed, stepping around the bedpost until he was standing directly in front of her. “I demand an official apology.”

“Not gonna happen old man, stay back” she lightly pushed the pointy end of the duster into his chest.

Ichabod glanced down at the duster faking disdain. “You.” He stated shaking his head. Ichabod slowly moved forward backing her into the corner prompting her to make a break for it over the middle of the bed. Ichabod thought he could cut off her angle before she leapt but misjudged her quickness, and found himself tumbling with her to the mattress. They both laughed at their collision. Ichabod sat up first, grabbing the feather duster and pointed it at Abbie, his hand holding her by the shoulder.  

“Now, I will have my apology.”

“You’re right, I’m, I’m…Ouch.” Abbie looked over at her shoulder.

“Abbie!” She could hear the worry thick in his voice.

“I’ve hurt you.” Abbie looked at the panic in Ichabod’s eyes and felt a little guilty for tricking him. She swiftly lunged flipping Ichabod over, she sat up on her knees while she pressed his shoulders into the mattress.   She regained the feather duster and held it horizontally across his neck.

“Stronger! I’m stronger.” She teased dragging out each syllable.   “Now, I shall have your unconditional surrender, or I will have your head. Say uncle!” She shouted.

“Say uncle, for what cause?!” He motioned to get up. Abbie shook her head “Oh no you don’t!” she threw her leg across him to keep him from moving. It wasn’t until she sat straddling him that she realized she really hadn’t thought it through properly. _Why did I do that, why..did I do that?_

She felt it instantaneously, it was quick and subtle, but she definitely felt it. A flex against the suddenly awakened center between her thighs. She was momentarily paralyzed, her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t dare take a breath. How was it possible that every single part of her body was tingling, especially the area where she felt his…flex. She immediately leapt off of him returning to her former position.

Ichabod was relieved. Abbie lifted from him just as his cock started pulsing uncontrollably. Unfortunately she now hung over him angled in such a manner that left the swell of her succulent breast far too close, and exposed. He felt water building in the base of his mouth and his pants growing uncomfortably tight. _She’s so beautiful_ , he thought. It wouldn’t be long before his erection was full on.

“Lieutenant, I beseech you to release me.” He pleaded urgently.

“And I beseech you to say uncle, or yield, whatever you want to call it, but I don’t have all day.”

Ichabod gazed up at her taken by how brightly her eyes shimmered in broken light. Her hair hung forward as she sloped over him partially blocking out the rest of the room. She quickly lifted her hand, and slid her fingers across her forehead tucking the displaced hairs behind her ear. There was a light breeze winding through the room that willed her hair forward, even as she pushed it back. It was the simplest of motions, and one Ichabod had watched her complete a thousand times before, but this time, lying there, it struck him in his core causing his chest to squeeze and his ears to ring under a deafening silence. No one and nothing made him as happy as she did, which ironically was the cause of his meandering melancholy.

He quickly realized his time had run out as the throbbing between his legs increased. He pulled one of his arms free and wrapped it around her waist pressing her tightly against him. He told himself there was no other way to ensure that Abbie wasn’t hurt when he flipped her off of him. He told himself that he couldn’t feel her heaving bosom pressed so perfectly against his noisily beating chest. A split second later Abbie lay dazed, and confused by the sudden turn of events. How the hell was he able to turn the tables on her so easily? She had seen him in action and knew he was strong _but wow!_ He now hovered over her pinning her to the bed by her wrist. She felt so vulnerable, powerless, and somehow completely aroused lying beneath him. Abbie struggled a bit but it didn’t take long for her to realize that she wouldn’t be able to get out of his grasp, at least not without seriously injuring parts of him that she had no desire to injure at all.

“Do you yield?” he asked.

“Never!   What is it John Paul Jones’ said? I have not yet begun to fight!” Abbie declared so vehemently they both erupted into laughter. After the chuckles subsided they found themselves in the most peculiar quiet.

Ichabod’s eyes drifted to Abbie’s jaw line, and he wondered what it might feel like to drag his lips across it. He found his thoughts muddled in a thick haze, with her in the center of them, and then everything else disappeared altogether. He took an unsteady breath, and slowly lowered his head to hers.

“Miss Mills.”

“Yeah,” she replied faintly, averting her eyes almost afraid to look at him when he was so close.

“I...I,” Ichabod furrowed his brows, noticing that Abbie was unwilling to meet his gaze, and that’s when he remembered. Katrina, the Horseman, Moloch, everything came flooding back in at once. “I yield.” He whispered quietly.

With that Ichabod stood straight as an arrow, face flushed, and his fingers flexing impulsively at his side. Unable to quell them he placed them behind his back and exited the room.

 


	4. Trust Issues

 

Abbie lifted herself with her elbows, just moments ago when Crane pulled her close her resolve instantly melted. She wasn’t used to being out of control, this abandon, she always hated the feeling, and this was no exception. It seemed that no matter how innocent her intentions were, she found herself in increasingly inappropriate situations with him. She didn’t know if Katrina was dead or alive, or something wholly different. She didn’t know if their marriage was technically over the moment he perished on the battlefield, but she knew that Ichabod still loved her, and she wouldn’t interfere with that.

She called after him. “Crane.”

She found him in the living room looking out of the window. She stood back and watched him for a bit, giving her emotions a moment to even out. Ichabod stood peering out of the window, watching as the scenery before him fell away. Soon he was standing in the den of his old home with Katrina. She wrapped her arms around him and he could almost feel the cool of her skin. “My sweet you’ve gone to ice. I shall prepare a fire for you at once.”

“The only fire I shall hope to enjoy is the one that ignites from your splendidly tender kisses.” Katrina purred. He pulled her close and obliged. “Ichabod, my love, promise you shall never stop loving me.”

“Ichabod?”

The sound of Abbie’s voice threatened to pull him back to the present.  She never called him Ichabod, except when she desperately wanted to get his attention. Only three times before had she done so, and all in the same day. The first came during the midst of battle with otherworldly creatures when she feared that his life was in peril, and again while they pretended to watch television later that evening. Sure the television was on, but their minds were furiously recounting the day’s events rather than processing what appeared before them on the screen. It’s a difficult thing, coming down from close battles, one moment your entire life is flashing before your eyes, and a few hours later you’re microwaving popcorn. The human brain is remarkable, but the process of reconciling such an enormous boost of adrenaline with such banality can be challenging for anyone. So they sat in silence not watching the movie while failing to eat any popcorn. When the credits rolled he side eyed her and asked if she’d enjoyed it, she turned to him her eyes glazed and voice stoic, speaking slower than he’d ever heard her. “I need. For you. To _never_ do that again okay…Ichabod, I thought, I thought.” Abbie swallowed the rest of her words turning her head back towards the television unwilling or unable to complete her sentence. It was like one of those bad dreams, the sort you wake from and you’re relieved, happy even that it was just a dream, but you can still feel how terrifying everything was inside of it. Only it wasn’t a dream, and she knew then and there that she couldn’t bear the weight of the world without him. She knew that their bond as witnesses was strong, but she didn’t know how much so until she was certain she’d lost him. She didn’t simply feel as though he almost died, rather that _they_ had almost died. Life threatening situations were nothing new to her. Still six hours after she had watched him very nearly lose his head she was still unable to stymie her trembling hands. Ichabod looked at her realizing that for the first time since making her acquaintance she was becoming undone. Her eyes were watery, and voice quiet, he was overcome with the desire to make her feel better. He slid his hand across the pillow cushion that separated them until his fingers coiled around the side of her waist. He pulled her to him until her legs curled across his, and her head rested against his chest.

”Lieutenant I will never purposely leave you to war against the forces of darkness alone, it shall be you and I until the very end.” He slipped his finger under her chin and lifted her face until their eyes met. His voice lowered. “I swear it. I was foolish, and exceedingly reckless, I will not make the mistake again.”

He meant it. During the attack Ichabod’s thoughts centered upon Abbie. He was more concerned with deserting his fellow witness than losing his life; ironically the one helped him to preserve the other. The thought of letting her down worried him even more than the thought of letting the entire world down, the entire situation confused him to no end. He wondered if she’d felt it too. His answer came later that night as he awoke to Abbie’s piercing screams. “Ichabod!” He leapt from his bed, heart pounding emphatically as he headed towards the living room. He made it from his bed to the fold out couch inside of four seconds, but the duration proved to be ample time for him to imagine the worst. He could never gather the words to describe the relief he felt when he found her there unscathed. Her eyes unbelievably widened even as they adjusted to the entry of light from the hallway. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tighter than he could ever recall being held. She released him briefly only to cup her hands loosely around his neck, then his head, and then his shoulders. She repeated the pattern a few more times as if she was making positively certain that his head was still attached to his body. When she was certain it was, she returned to his embrace, trembling as she murmured a slew of “Thank God’s” into his bare chest. He stood there holding her for the better part of ten minutes. So often it was he who suffered from nightmares, and Abbie who saw to him afterwards. This was his chance to repay her for all the times he had disturbed her sleep. She was one of the most independent people that he’d ever met, never requesting or enlisting help or support from anyone, he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel good knowing that he was something she needed. All the more he hated to see her upset. When she calmed down he made her a cup of hot cocoa, and they sat in front of the couch watching the fire. They didn’t speak, at all, they simply sat there with their bodies poached against each other listening to the crackling of the wood. When their mugs were empty, and Abbie’s blinks became extended he asked if she should lie down and if he should return to his sleeping chambers. She briefly opened her eyes and closed them before answering.

“No I need to know that you’re safe…I need to….feel you near me.” She said wrapping her hands around his forearm. He understood perfectly. He scooped her tiny body up and laid her down on the couch before covering her with a blanket.

“Wait,” she mumbled sleepily, “don’t go.”

“Shhh, never.” He assured her clasping their hands together. He laid on the floor next to the couch and folded their locked fingers over her belly. It should have been uncomfortable sleeping with his arm raised as it was, but to this day it was one of the most peaceful nights of sleeps he could ever recall.  

“Ichabod.” Abbie gently tapped his shoulder.

“Hey where did you go?” She asked searching his eyes for the answer. It seemed as if he were deep in thought, contemplating something, but what she couldn’t grasp.

“Miss Mills, I,” Ichabod turned his gaze away from the window and immediately wished he hadn’t. He looked down into her concerned eyes and found that he was quite unable to turn away. Over the past few months he had found himself staring at her in wonder more and more, most generally when she was unaware that he was watching. He was trying desperately to curtail this activity for fear she would one day catch him in the act of gawking at her as Miss Jenny already had.

“You what?” Abbie questioned leaning her head forward and stretching her eyes as if to beg on his response.

“For a moment back there I thought…I thought that you were hurt. When you grabbed your shoulder, I believed to have hurt you.”

“I know Crane, I’m sorry I was just joking, I thought it was understood.” She stated.

“I know that you were merely joking, you’re very clever. But I want it to be understood, I would never harm you. Know now that I would sooner suffer the flame of a thousand fires, then intentionally cause you even a minute portion of pain. The anguish of feeling that I caused you pain is more than I’d care to revisit.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. He found himself relieved that Abbie was clueless as to the true reason for his discord.

“It won’t happen again,” she agreed, nudging him with her elbow. C’mon you should know by now that I’m not that fragile.

Ichabod peered down at Abbie. “Still I am nearly twice your size, I must exercise caution so as not to”

“—Crane please, I think I could take you.” She teased.

“Take me where,” He questioned.

_Laughing_ “Nowhere, I mean physically.” His eyes grew as he raised both brows. _Oh Jeez_ , Abbie cringed and bit her bottom lip. “—Er, I mean combatively,” she recovered quickly.

“Oh.” Ichabod let out a held breath. “Undoubtedly, you would emerge the victor because I could never bring my hand to strike, or harm a lady.”

Abbie smiled. “That’s all well in theory but if we ever run into trouble, and some monster demon chick is feeding me bricks, I need you to hit her.”

“Feeding you bricks?” Ichabod let the words roll curiously from his tongue.

“You know, like hard punches to the mouth. Not that it’s ever going to happen but if it did, you have to let go of all your gentlemanly sensibilities, and get the broad up off of me. You don’t have to actually strike her, but you could at least hold her so I can.” She said half laughing.

Ichabod chuckled. “Lieutenant you forget I’ve seen you in action, I doubt there is a woman alive capable of feeding you these so called bricks, even in your diminutive state.”

Abbie leaned her head to the side “What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“Apologies, however, I didn’t mean it as an insult. I was simply reasoning that your combative prowess is exceeding even in spite of your small stature. Have you _ever_ lost a sparring match?”

You mean a fight? Yep, I lost the first fight I ever got into. It was in the third grade with this girl, Darcy Stevens, she was such a bully.” Abbie recalled.   “She used to sit behind me and pull my hair, and she would trash all my beautiful drawings by putting huge X’s through them.” Abbie smiled. “Okay so they were terrible, _terrible_ drawings but still, she was really awful.”

“What made you decide to stand up to her?” Ichabod probed.

“We were all at recess one day and she tried to take a ball from Jenny. Jenny didn’t want to give it up so Darcy pushed her down, and I just rushed her. Only she didn’t fall, no kidding she was as big as you in third grade. She hit me so hard I think I actually saw Z’s.” Abbie chuckled. “But Jenny leaps up, grabs this jump rope, and throws it around her feet, and she tripped. She fell hard and got sand in her eyes, and the rest is history.” That’s when I started hanging around this old boxing gym on 7th street; just getting waters and towels and such for the boxers, and eventually the owner, Bobby, he took pity and taught me how to defend myself.”

Ichabod grinned down at Abbie. “What? What are you thinking?” She asked.

“I’m just imagining you launching your body into this large girl trying to protect Jenny, even though you knew your chances of being hurt. You were brave even then. Did you ever find out why this girl acted so despicably toward you?”

“You know what I did,” Abbie’s eyes widened as the memory grew. “It turned out the reason she was torturing me was because her crush, Tommy Driscoll, gave me some dandelions one day. At that age I still thought all boys had the cooties so I didn’t think anything of it, but she was like livid.”

“Cooties?” He said inquisitively.

“Oh yeah cooties,” Abbie twisted her mouth trying to think of the best way to describe cooties. “Cooties are like the most disgusting, gross, deadly, completely fictitious germs that ever existed.” Abbie smiled taking a seat on the couch.

“All the girls thought the boys had them, and vice versa, and they were nearly impossible to get rid of once you got them, you were done.”

“I see,” Ichabod grinned taking a seat beside Abbie all too fascinated with her tales of imaginary illnesses, “and precisely how does one acquire these dreadful cooties?”

Abbie turned to face Ichabod, pulling her legs to her chest and loosely resting her arms around her shins.   “Well boys are born with them, but they become seriously contagious around second grade. Girls can become infected by having any sort physical contact with a boy, or touching something that a boy got his cooties on.” Abbie stated matter of factly.

Ichabod laughed “Well then it stands to reason that infected boys and girls could easily transmit this deplorable disease to other girls, and if all boys are born contaminated, did not everyone suffer from cooties?”

She shook her head in disagreement. “Uh-uh I never had them. I got the cootie shot, so I was immune.”

Ichabod laughed. “A vaccination for a make believe disease?”

Abbie snickered studying Ichabod’s amazement, “I know it’s hard to understand why we would go to such extremes, but I’m telling you in 3rd grade it was so real, it was our world.”

Looking into Ichabod’s eyes Abbie became aware of how giddy she was just being near him.   He found wonder and excitement in the simplest things, and it was as if she was seeing the world again through his eyes. So often he made her remember things she hadn’t thought about in years. He had discovered more about her than anyone she’d ever befriended, and even though they were bound, it frightened her. She desperately sought to distance herself from those feelings.

“I should set the table, Jenny will be back soon.” She said getting up but Ichabod raised his palm indicating he’d like her to sit a while longer.

“Miss Mills you have not yet finished the story, whatever became of you and Miss Darcy. Did she retaliate against you for stealing her desired love’s affection?”

“No. Actually he moved away the next year and all was forgiven.” She answered.

“Ahhh. Beware my lord of jealousy; I’m sure she was the first in a long line of Darcy Stevens’ Miss Mills, have you not been breaking hearts ever since.”

Abbie laughed shaking her head and pointing to her chest. “Me? No, nope I was quiet, and super shy growing up. My idea of a good time, was a good book. Jenny was the lively one, she was the heartbreaker. I didn’t really date until I was older……and then, it wasn’t really what I expected”. Abbie was sitting right in front of him, but her eyes seemed to go off to a faraway place.

“Do accept my apology, I by no means intended to dredge up unfortunate or regrettable memories.” Ichabod said.

“Oh no, it’s not that I regret it or anything, it’s just…….it never really felt….I don’t know…..necessary. I think all of the relationships that I’ve been in have been very…unremarkable I guess. It’s not that I wanted it, or planned it that way, but everything just seemed so..impermanent…kind of like I was just keeping time. It’s not that I didn’t, at least on some level, have love, or something close to it once or twice” Abbie furrowed her brow while further pondering her declaration before deciding. “Once.   I did. But I never fell hard enough for it to leave a mark when I hit the ground.”   Abbie suddenly felt uncomfortable realizing she had yet again shared too much of herself.

“Wow I’m really rambling.” She said grinning wryly.

“Not at all, in fact I’m rather enjoying this conversation, I find it quite interesting.” Ichabod admitted.

“Hmm. What exactly do you find interesting Crane?” Abbie prodded coyly. Ichabod looked at Abbie hesitantly. He adored women, so naturally he appreciated them and all the splendor and color they brought to the world. In his time he thought that he understood them, at least as much as any man truly could. But just as the times were different so too was Abbie, she was far and away the most independent, spirited, and free woman he had ever met. He considered whether he had supposed too much in his mental summation of her romantic affairs. Still after spending so much time with her he felt that he understood her in ways that no one else could. In the very least he felt that their friendship, and bond afforded him the right to speak freely.

“I find it interesting that you speak of falling in love as though you have some choice in the matter. Forgive me if my curiosity lends me to overstepping the bounds of our friendship, but may I pose a question?” he asked.

Abbie side eyed him. “Shoot?” He cocked his head to the side. “I mean proceed with your line of questioning.” She clarified.

“Can you recall the last time that you took a fall, or spill purposefully whether outdoors, or inside?” He asked.

“I’ve never fallen down on purpose.” She replied carefully, mulling over her reply even as she answered.

“I would argue that it is the same with love. How can you determine how hard or far you are willing to fall? The very idea of falling denotes a loss of control and composure; you succumb to the gravity of it if you will.   Perhaps this is not so much your own doing however, perhaps you have not been properly…pursued, with all of the tenacity and adoration that a woman like you requires to truly succumb…to the beauty of love. It is glaringly apparent that chivalry in this era, at least whereas related to romantic entanglements, is obsolete.” He reasoned.

Ichabod lowered his voice and leaned closer to Abbie. “I would wager had you been courted by a true gentlemen worthy of your affection, your perspective on falling in love would be well varied from the position you hold now.”

Abbie took a deep breath and wondered if he had any idea of the effect his tone and closeness had on her. She almost felt that sometimes these feelings towards him were the desired effect. _Snap out of it Abbie._

“You would lose.” She countered abjectly. “The wager that is.”   She had been courted, wooed, and treated beautifully by Collin, her first. He was everything she could’ve hoped for, kind, fun and generous, yet discerning and strong, and best of all he loved her. Ultimately, it was his gift of discernment that led him to walk away, and letting him was one of the most selfless things she had ever done. She knew she didn’t love him the way he loved her. Things would have been so much easier if she didn’t love him at all, but she did, only not the way he deserved. He had desires of marriage, and them starting a life together, none of which appealed to her. “I’m just not ready,” she’d told him on a rainy day in September.   It seemed much softer than the truth which was she was literally waiting for the man of her dreams, but after Collin left, she stopped.

“I understand what you’re saying but I don’t think my issue is necessarily the falling part. I have loved. I may not have been in love but I _loved_ Collin, in fact I care about him to this day, and I want him to be happy.”

Abbie’s words were deeply unsettling to Ichabod and caused his mind to wander. He knew that she was still speaking he just found it difficult to focus on what she was saying. She never spoke of Collin, the only reason Ichabod knew he existed was because of an old photo of the two of them he’d found when packing up her old apartment. When he questioned her about it she merely stated that he was an old friend and took the photo from him. It was clear from the photo that they were much more than friends, but when he pried she snapped at him, and berated him for “forcing yourself into every part of my life, some things are just for me Crane!” She’d scolded. Ichabod felt the air grow heavy upon his shoulders as he wondered what extent Abbie still cared for Collin.  

“So what do you think?”

“Forgive me can you repeat the question?” He stumbled. Abbie was flabbergasted, Ichabod always paid close attention when others were speaking, especially her. It was one of the first things she really loved about him, it didn’t matter what room they were in, or how many people filled it, he always seemed to treat her as though she were the only one there.

“What?! Really? Abbie giggled, “The great Ichabod Crane, bearer of gentlemanly manners, keeper of the English language, wants me Grace Abigail Mills to repeat the question.

Ichabod grinned sheepishly “Please do accept my sincerest apology and do me the kind favor of repeating your query.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Abbie said before taking a more serious tone. “Do you think it’s possible to be in love, I mean _really_ in love with someone, without fully trusting them?”

“I cannot foresee how. I believe that trust is the bedrock of friendship, and friendship is the foundation of love.” Ichabod replied.”

Abbie nodded her head. “I agree. You know the way Jenny and I grew up, it makes it nearly impossible to trust anyone. That’s my problem, it’s not that I’m unable to fall, I’ve just never trusted anyone well enough not to brace for it. Maybe I never will, but at the same time, I know have love to give. I guess it’s kind of like falling halfway.” Ichabod gazed into Abbie’s eyes and could see the distant sadness behind them. She was adept, good at hiding the more vulnerable parts of herself, but not from him.

“Hold fast Lieutenant, perhaps you have yet to find the man who will make it plain that he will indeed catch you, so that you needn’t brace at all.”

“You think so huh?”

“Without question.”

Abbie reclined against the back of the couch. "I don't know we'll see.  I'm a busy girl, so love and all that comes with it will have to wait until after the war.” She paused turning her eyes to his. “Crane…there will be an after to this war right?” She softly asked herself as much as she did him.

“We shall do our very best to ensure it.” He promised reaching across his body, taking her hand and pulling her towards him, not forcibly, gently, yet strong enough for her to understand that he wanted her closer. He let out a soft sigh when she was near enough to nestle her head against his arm.

They sat quietly as she imagined their fate, and he pondered all that she had become to him. His anchor, his friend, his teacher, his nurse, and his _(gulp)_ other half. He wondered how it was possible to have another half that was not his wife, and exactly how he would feel after this war when and if Abbie found someone worthy of receiving all the love she had to give.  Further he wondered how their romantic counterparts would feel about the closeness they shared.  He knew that these quiet times were needed, short shelters from the very world they battled for, moments that assured the other that they were safe, and they were needed, moments they had come to rely on.

Just then Jenny came spilling through the door. “Whew! There was an accident on the freeway, I had to get off and take Benders Road.”   She called juggling their takeout and a bag of beverages.   The startled pair quickly sprang from the couch.

She looked at Abbie and Ichabod curiously. "What’d I miss, did something happen?”

“Nothing,” “No.” They answered at the same time, to which Jenny rolled her eyes.

“That smells most delightful, I’ll ready the table.” Ichabod stated glancing nervously at Abbie on his way into the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 


	5. The Interview

 

 

“Okay, you have everything right?” Abbie stood in front of a handsomely clad Ichabod giving him a once over with a lent brush. He was wearing a gray suit with a blue tie that somehow made him appear taller than he already was.

“I have everything.”

“You have your resume?”

“Yes.”

“Your wallet?”

He slid his hand over his hind pocket. “Yes”

“Money in said wallet for parking, or in case of an emergency?”

“I placed it in there earlier.” He confirmed.

“Your new driver’s license?” She asked.

“It’s in the front panel”

“And you got gas th”

“This morning.” He said finishing her sentence. He took the lent brush from her, and placed it on the end table. Ichabod folded his hands behind his back. “Miss Mills how is it that you are more nervous than I? Am I not the one being interviewed?” Her eyes sparkled inches above a closed lipped smile. She took a step back and smoothed his jacket out one final time. “I just know how much you want this, I want to do everything I can to help you get it.” She replied.

“I am too fortunate to have a friend such as you.   You spent the last two evenings staging mock interviews with me. You have done all you can, and I am most gracious.”

“You’re going to do great, they’d be lucky to have you, you know that right?” She rose to her tiptoes to straighten his tie. Ichabod was more uneasy about the interview than he let on, but he nodded his reply.

“Good. Well, good luck, and no matter how it turns out, Jenny and I will be here for you. Don’t forget to silence your phone before you go in, and you got this.” She said offering him a fist bump. He raised his fist to hers.

“Noted. I shan’t be but a few hours.”  

Abbie stood in the doorway waving as he backed out of the driveway. She was nearly to the kitchen before she realized she had been saying a silent prayer for him. She knew that he was thrust into this time to complete their duty as witnesses, but it was her, and her alone that fastened him to this place. He needed more, he needed to be able to do more, to survive in case something happened to her. One of her biggest concerns about dying is wondering what would become of him if she did. This position would be a giant step on the road to independence for him, and she needed him to take it. 

It had been nearly four hours since Ichabod’s eleven o’clock interview began, and he hadn’t returned home. Abbie had tried his cell three times, but it went straight to voicemail. She kept telling herself not to worry, but in their line of work it was pretty hard not to. She’d already decided that if he didn’t return within the next hour she was going looking for him. He had her car, but since Jenny and Irving were both slated to be there for a five o’clock dinner, she knew she’d have transportation. She was preparing chicken tacos, and had already washed and cut all the veggies as well as marinated the chicken. After a while the timer went off on the stove alerting her to the fact that the corn cake had finished baking, and more importantly that it was quarter after three and Ichabod still wasn’t there. _That’s it after I take this out of the oven, I’m going to find him. It isn’t like him to stay gone that long and not try to contact me._ Her phone rang, and she nearly leapt across the room, only to be disappointed when she realized it was Jenny and not Ichabod.

“So I got the cilantro, Tequila, and margarita mix. We need anything else?” Jenny beamed.

“No. Listen Crane hasn’t shown up yet, and I’m starting to get a little worried, I need your truck.”

“Oh,” Jenny paused on the other end. “Of course you can use my truck, but maybe you’re overreacting a little. Maybe it went really well, and that’s what’s taking so long.” Jenny reasoned.

“That’s what I’ve been telling myself, but he still should have been back, or at least called by now.” She reasoned as she placed the cake on the stove top.

“Well what are your super-weird witness spidey senses telling you?” Jenny had witnessed the two of them almost have some sort of a sixth sense when the other was in danger on several occasions.

Abbie laughed, “I’m not getting any bad vibes if that’s what you mean, I don’t feel like he’s in any physical danger at least….but all the same.”

“Understood.” There was another brief silence.

“What is it Jenny, what are you not saying?”

“Nothing, it’s just….you know…he _is_ kind of easy on the eyes, it’s possible he met someone and simply lost track of time.”

Abbie pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it. That was one scenario that never entered her mind, he’s not out checking for chicks. _Right?...Right? she thought._ Abbie’s mind raced taking quick inventory of all of the women in town that Ichabod knew. They were all quickly discounted for one reason or another, too old, too young, too crazy, married. All except for one. Caroline. Crane had met her through a local reenactment group he’d joined. She really took a shine to him, and Abbie knew that he was fond of her, hell she hand stitched his clothing for Pete’s sake. Abbie’s traitorous mind immediately flashed to visions of her in Ichabod’s embrace, with his tongue blazing a trail down her throat. She couldn’t readily describe the emotion it evoked from her, but it was not even a little bit cute. Her fingers tightened around the phone without her even realizing, she placed her hand over her belly as if that would help relieve the discomfort it suddenly felt. She backed up toward a chair and had a seat, but she felt like Jenny needed to have several for even suggesting such a thing. For some reason her body and limbs felt too heavy to hold up.

“Hello? Hellooooo? Bells, are you still there?”

“Uh yeah, do you” Abbie tugged at her shirt collar, “do you really think that’s what he’s doing, I mean did he say something? She pushed her hair out of her face because she felt like she was sweating so it had to be her hair right, why else would she be sweating.

“Calm down girlie, he didn’t say anything. I’m screwing with you.” Jenny chuckled.

“Look he’s probably gonna turn up any minute, but I’m checking out, and I’ll be there in twenty.” Abbie hung up the phone without bothering to say goodbye, why was she cracking jokes when Ichabod might possibly be missing. Her head was still buzzing from Jenny’s so called joke when the sound of the front door closing brought her out of her funk. She listened to familiar steps clunking through the foyer, and when she heard keys clanking against a tray in the hallway she knew it was him. She scrambled to her feet, and tried to pretend like she was busy doing something, anything except for what she actually happened to be doing, which was slowly unraveling. She pulled the guacamole out of the fridge, and started stirring it.

“Lieutenant, I have returned.” Abbie turned around to see Ichabod entering the kitchen, setting a bag on the counter.

“Oh, hey Crane, I didn’t hear you come in.” She lied, setting the guacamole aside. So how did it go?”

“It went as you would say okay.” Ichabod grinned slyly.

“So just okay or like pretty awesome okay? C’mon Crane give me the details.”

“Well for starters, I’m afraid it’s Professor Crane.” His mouth curled into a gaping, prideful smile.

“What, what do you mean—No way!” Before she knew it her arms were wrapped around his neck and he was whirling her around the kitchen. She was so happy and excited for him she could have kissed him, but wisely she thought better of it. Her feet hung freely and when they reached the point when her weight was becoming too much, Ichabod slid his arms down in order to lock them around her thighs, but Abbie realizing what was happening allowed herself to slide back to the floor. She smiled up at him, and patted his chest proudly. “I am so happy for you, you don’t even know. How did you pull that off? They just offered you the job on the spot?” She felt like she had a million questions to ask.

“Well apparently I was the last person to interview for the position, and you are aware that I have a firm understanding of the course-book they have chosen to instruct from, its strengths, weaknesses, omissions and such. Still, all in all, I believe it was the lesson plan that I developed that truly carried the day. In fact, midway through the interview the department head brought in the Dean in order to have her go over a few things, and she found them agreeable.”

Abbie was positively bubbling. “Crane don’t sell yourself short, I mean you got the job. Just agreeable?”

“Well… she loved it actually, she was quite impressed, if I recall correctly she said something along the lines of my method for presentation being a bastion of originality, teetering on the edge of ground breaking.” His eyes twinkled with joy as he spoke. “So they offered me the position directly, and I happily accepted.”

“Wow!” Abbie said shaking her head. “I don’t know what to say, congratulations!” Ichabod grabbed her hand and swung it softly between them.  “None of this would have been possible without your support and assistance Miss Mlls.” His eyes grew. “As a matter of fact, I had almost forgotten. Ichabod started unpacking the sack he’d placed on the countertop. “ I received a signing bonus. I’m afraid it isn’t much at least as measured in this present age, nor is my wage, but it is a start.”

“I’m sure you will have more than enough.” Abbie said gently rubbing his arm.

“I purchased some more doughnut holes. the last package is gone because unfortunately I ate them all, and for Jenny more cinnamon toast crunch, because she was upset with me when, well, I ate them all, and also I procured a few more packages of cherries because—”

Abbie leaned over the island countertop. “Let me guess, you ate them all.” She chuckled finishing his sentence.

“Ichabod reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. It was necessary that I leave fifty dollars in the checking account I was required to open in order to cash the check, which I might add is the most ridiculous..

“—Crane.” Abbie new if he got going about the woes of the banking system, they would be here all night.

“Oh yes, here is the remainder of what is left over, and when I receive the first of my first biweekly pay, it is yours, and every one thereafter until my debt is settled.”

Abbie backed away from him. Absolutely not, I’m not taking your money, it’s for you to do with as you please.”

“Abbie,” He pleaded. I will not have you being solely responsible for all of the household charges, for a home in which I reside. Please.” He offered holding the money out.

“Look if you want to pay a few bills, or pick up groceries sometimes, that’s awesome, it’s wonderful, but I can’t take _all_ of your money Crane. I won’t.” She declared.

“But you’ve been covering all of the finances for well over a year, have you not? I am merely trying to repay you for that.”

“I know you are, and I think it’s really sweet, but I’m not charging you back-pay, that’s ridiculous. I’ll tell you what, we’ll look at the budget, and your income tomorrow, and we’ll see where you can help out, but I’m not taking that money.” She said pointing at the wad of bills in his hand.

“I mean think about it, if I woke up in your age, and needed money, or something to live and you had it, wouldn’t you give it to me.”

“Without question,” his fingers twitched at his side, as his gaze fell from her. “However I am afraid had you awakened in my age, money shall have been the least of our troubles. While there are customs and parts of that life that I know you would have found beauty in, there was as you know the sweeping, degradable, and barbaric practice of slavery.”   He stepped closer to her and took her hand. “Be clear Grace Abigail Mills, I shall have warred against any and all men seeking to lay claim to, or exercise dominion over you, until my final breath, and the very last beat of my heart.” Abbie looked into his eyes and could tell he meant every word he said, and it touched her. Because it isn’t every day that someone says that they would die for you, that they would kill for you, and mean it. She lightly bit her bottom lip. “I know.” She responded keeping her eyes locked to his. “So you would have fought and died for me, but purchase you a few things, and pay a couple bills and you won’t have it?” She grinned rolling her eyes.

“Exactly.” He half smiled. “I have a confession to make.” Ichabod started.

“What sort of a confession, and be careful, I’m an officer of the law so anything you say can and will be used against you.” She joked.

“These bills are not the remaining sum total of the signing bonus I received, wait here.” Ichabod disappeared into the living room and retrieved his suit jacket from the back of the couch. He reached into the inside pocket to retrieve a small box. He returned to the kitchen smiling proudly as he gave it to Abbie. “I had thought to give it to you at another time, alas I decided that there is no time like the present.”

Abbie’s face was covered with surprise. “What is this?” She asked as her eyes toggled back and forth between him and the box.

His voice lowered and softened. “Open it.”

She smiled up at him before hesitantly opening the box. The inside revealed a beautiful pearl and diamond necklace. It wasn’t just any necklace but one she had specifically looked at before and contemplated purchasing for herself. The small diamonds sparkled against the white gold setting, and the single pearl exuded a simple elegance that she found beyond attractive. She looked up at him with a mixed expression of joy and disbelief. “Ichabod.” Because this was an Ichabod moment, Crane just wouldn’t suffice.

His eye’s reflected the happiness he found in her reaction. “I noticed you admiring it a while back. I knew that it was something you wanted, but you did not purchase it because there were things that I needed. I want you to know that I was aware of that, that I _am_ aware of that.” He added.

Abbie nodded because his words were true, and she was happy that he understood. Not because she wanted him to feel bad, but because she wanted him to understand how important he was to her. His needs took precedence over her wants, and she would never let him go without anything he needed because of something she simply wanted.  

“I hope it still finds your favor.”

“I love it.” She said softer than she had intended to. He pulled the necklace out of the box. “Shall I?”

“Please.” She turned and lifted her hair off of her neck, so he could fasten the necklace for her.

“Let’s have a look.” He said turning her around to face him.

He felt his breath catch. “Abbie,” his finger lightly traced the outline of the necklace, she tried to quell a shudder as his finger drug across her collar bone. “No wonder you chose it, it’s one of the most beautiful and graceful things I’ve ever seen.” His eyes returned to hers only to find them barely open. “It suits you perfectly.” They were so close now that he was certain every breath he took was previously hers, and it made him all the more happy to breathe. He didn’t know why these moments comforted him so. Just being silent and near her, but even though he didn’t understand it, he knew he needed it. He needed her.

“Hey look who I found.” Jenny called out with Irving following just behind her. “Oh so you didn’t have to put an APB out on him after all?”

Abbie turned surprised, and shook her head rapidly indicating to Jenny that she shouldn’t continue on with her current line of questioning. Ichabod furrowed his brow and turned to Abbie “APB?”

“It’s nothing, really. So who wants a margarita?!” She asked changing the subject. “Jenny maybe you could mix them up, while Crane gives the Captain a tour of the house. I just have to finish up the chicken and we can eat.”

“Wait a minute, I’m the only dinner guest?” Irving piped up. “I feel so special.”

“You are, and yes it’s just us, what can I say, our inner circle is a square.” She looked up at Ichabod, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

 


	6. Will It So

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long. I hope the tail end of it makes up for it though.

 

 

 

Ichabod looked up from his book, while waiting for Abbie to come down to the family room. He had viewed her nightly routine many times before, and knew it all too well. For instance, he knew that her hair would be curly tonight because it was Sunday, and she always washed, or co-washed as she put it, her hair on Sundays.   He knew that it would be imbued with the smell of the most wonderfully fragrant flowers, and coconut, due to the oil she used to protect it from becoming overly dry. He smiled remembering how surprised he had been the first time he saw her hair in its natural state.

“Miss Mills, you’ve curled your hair, I find it quite fetching.” He smiled.

 

“Thanks Crane, but I didn’t have to curl it; my hair is actually naturally curly. When it’s straight it’s because I hot-combed, or flat ironed it.” She said.

“Oh, interesting.”  He’d said as his eyes shifted to the clock and back to Abbie.   “Lieutenant are you going out this evening? It’s awfully late, I shall accompany you.” He’d said.

“No. I am definitely in for the night, what makes you think I’m leaving?” She’d asked confused.

“Well I just now noticed that you were wearing perfume, generally something you apply before leaving the house.” He remarked.

“Perfume? She hummed inquisitively. “Oh”, she smiled. “It’s just my leave in conditioner, and coconut oil Crane. You see when my hair is in its natural state like this,” she rubbed a few strands of her hair together, “it’s difficult for sebum, which I’m sure you know is our body’s natural oil, to travel down my hair shaft. The moisturizers, and oils help to supplant that. But long story short, I’m not going anywhere tonight.” She’d smiled.

Like clockwork Abbie came down the stairs cloaked in what she referred to as grubbies (t-shirt and tights) with curly locks pulled up into a bun atop her head. Ichabod inwardly smiled as he became aware of how very much he looked forward to this time of the evening. They had spent the greater part of the previous night and half the day hunting down a necromancer just outside of a neighboring town. He should have been exhausted, he was exhausted, but he didn’t want to sleep. He cherished the tiny moments when they enjoyed a short respite from their duty of preventing the end of days. It was nothing short of amazing the way their lives had seamlessly bound together. Though they hailed across the ages in space and time, he never doubted for a moment when with her, that it was exactly where he was intended to be.   Ichabod rose from the sofa as Abbie approached.

“Crane please, we live together now. Are you seriously going to stand up ev-ver- ry time I enter, or exit a room?” Abbie complained.

“Yes.” Ichabod responded plainly.

“This is ridiculous. I understand that you’re a gentlemen, and there are certain manners you hold out as valor or whatever, but what about what the lady wants.”

Ichabod postulated momentarily before answering “Fine..I am the lady’s servant so long as your wishes are not in sharp contrast with my sensibilities.”

“I just want to come into the living room, kitchen, or wherever and not feel like I’m honorable Judge Mills taking the bench. I know that this was consistent with manners in your time, but here and now, its overkill.”

Ichabod (reddening slightly).   “My apologies Miss Mills, it was not my intention to offend or upset you in any way, I simply rise to show my readiness to assist you.”

“Assist me with what?” Abbie questioned trying to comprehend.

“Anything you might need.” He pledged quietly.

Abbie looked at Ichabod completely enraptured by his kindness. He was constantly saying, or doing things to give her a glimpse inside of his heart, and the more she saw, the more her affections grew. She had always found it difficult to live with people, other than Jenny. But Ichabod’s heart was always in the right place, so she found herself able to overlook the annoying things he did, like spilling cookie crumbs in the side of the couch, or leaving the door to the deck open so that a thousand mosquitoes inundated the house.  

“I’m not upset Crane, I just don’t want you to trouble yourself. I can take care of myself you know. I’ve been doing it for a really long time.” She flashed him a quick smile.

“C’mon take a load off.”   Abbie invited throwing a few throw pillows into an empty chair, making sure to keep one in-between them. What are we watching tonight, and where’d Jenny run off to?” She questioned rumbling through a stack of DVDS.

“I believe she has retired to her sleeping chambers for the evening. She said something about shooting anyone who deigned to wake her before nine o’ clock.” Ichabod chuckled.

“Well I guess that leaves you, me, Salma Hayek, and Mathew Perry.”

“Who?” He questioned.

“Fools Rush In.” Abbie announced starting the DVD player.   Abbie’s life was packed with action and drama, so she usually gravitated toward lighthearted movies.

“Do you want a snack?” _Why do I even bother asking, when does he ever turn down food? She thought._

“I’d find that pleasing, if it isn’t too much of a burden.” Ichabod said.

“No burden at all.” Abbie called out heading towards the kitchen.

She returned to the couch juggling two bottles of water and a large bowl of popcorn.

“My apologies, let me lend a hand.” Ichabod offered taking the bowl of popcorn, and one of the bottles of water.

“So are you getting excited?” Abbie asked nibbling on a piece of popcorn. “A little over seven weeks before fall semester begins, all those beautiful pupils hungry for knowledge, open minds, just waiting for you to pour it in.”

I suppose I am a little excited what with the semester beginning in seven weeks, two days,” he looked at his watch, “twelve hours, forty-seven minutes, and thirty-two seconds.”

Abbie laughed out loud. “They’re going to love you.”

“I’d settle for being tolerated.” He said putting a small handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Fools Rush In, what precisely is this film about?” He asked.

“It’s a love story, things kind of happen backwards, quickly, I think you’ll enjoy it.” Abbie said settling in.

Ichabod awoke to Abbie’s head lying gently upon his bicep. He looked down noticing both of her hands wrapped around his elbow, while the pillow that once divided them lay tucked between her knees.   Her soft breath tickled the side of his arm, while the scent of her hair, danced through his nostrils. She was sleeping so peacefully that he dreaded waking her, after all, the past few days were rather eventful, and she surely must have been quite fatigued. But he knew that he must. “Lieutenant, Lieutenant,” he whispered. Ichabod carefully dislodged his arm from Abbie’s grip, and placed it on the back of the couch. She then slipped against his chest resting her arm loosely around his waist. The action caught him by surprise, and momentarily stopped his breath. The feel of her warmth seeping into his chest, and her tiny arm strewn across his lower belly enticed him to no end. He quickly became paranoid that she would wake from the increased beat of his heart, and judge him a cad for allowing her to remain in such a state. He took deep calming breaths in the hopes of quieting it, all the while, secretly wishing his arm still served as a sound barrier. He sat motionless for a brief interlude, breathing her in as he tried to decide upon the best method of waking her. One thing for certain, he had to wake her. Her being so close, taking rest against him was causing his mind, and heart to wrap around desires that were best forgotten. Abbie’s eyelids begin to flutter, and finally blinked open, then just as quickly shut. “Miss Mills, Miss Mills,” he whispered tapping her shoulder.  

“Hmmm.” Abbie exhaled pulling her knees further into her chest, and nuzzling closer against him.

“Miss…” Ichabod raised his hand to gently nudge Abbie awake, but astonishingly it betrayed him on the way to her shoulder, and wound up stroking her hair. “Mills”. That’s when he knew he had to wake her before he did something he might regret. He removed the pillow, pushed his arms beneath her, and lifted her from the couch.

“Icha…bod”. Abbie stirred. “Put me…I can..”

“—Shhh. I have you,” he reassured her, pulling her close to his chest as her legs dangled over the side of his arm.

He carried her up the short basement stairs, then again up the much longer main staircase. He was only slightly winded upon reaching her bedroom where he carefully placed her upon her bed. She was again soundly sleeping by the time he placed a blanket over her tiny frame. Abbie was always a heavy sleeper, and knew if she fell asleep before making it to the bed, she would never get there. That’s particularly why she usually went to bed at the first sign of weariness. Ichabod found himself loitering by her bedside in this rare, and seemingly simple little moment when he could just watch her unnoticed. He stood there reveling in her beauty, and listening to the slow rhythm of her breaths. He wondered what dreams she dreamt.

“Goodnight my dear Abigail.” He said quietly closing her door on the way out. The little voice in the back of his head reminded him that she most certainly was not his, and scolded him for conducting himself in such an unseemly manner, spying on an unsuspecting woman in her bedchambers.

Ichabod returned to the couch to turn off the television. He picked up the remote, but instead of clicking it off, he found himself trying to gain clarity on some of the confusing thoughts that occupied his mind. Foremost of which was his growing attraction to his fellow witness, why couldn’t he shake it? Why couldn’t he shake her? When he was with her it was as if everything else in the world fell away, including Katrina. He sat mulling over various encounters, including his inability to breathe when she was near, and his lack of desire to breathe when she was not. One particular vision, the one of her perched atop him tucking her hair behind her ear, seems to haunt him especially.

He was broken from his train of thought by the man and woman in the movie they were watching having some sort of an argument.   He thought that was too bad because she was with child, and they’d only married months before. The pretty woman was fully in tears, and that’s when he heard her say it, _“Love is a gift Alex, not an obligation”_. He immediately didn’t like it, in fact he maybe hated it…yes, he decidedly did. He didn’t like the way they made him feel, those words, the way they caused a brief panic in his chest, as if they knew who he was. Like they had somehow discovered all of his hidden secrets. He turned them over in his head again and again, and realized he knew them to be true. Things were always so clear before, but where clarity once prevailed, confusion now reigned. His mind drifted between various moments shared between he and Katrina, and him and Abbie. He sifted through these moments in his mind until his eyelids grew heavy.

Ichabod awoke to a loud thumping sound. He rose and followed it up the stairs, down the hallway, and up the main staircase, guided by only the soft light of the foyer dimmers. _“Thump, scratch, scratch, scratch, thump, scratch, scratch, scratch.”_ It repeated and grew louder with each cautious step. When he came to the end of the hallway he noticed a window had been left open, and the storm outside was slamming a large branch into the side of the house. He closed the window, and made a mental note to trim back the branches at his earliest convenience. On his way back to the family room he was startled by Abbie dipping into the hallway. Before realizing it was her, he had reflexively pinned her against the wall.

“Crane.” Abbie said calmly glancing at his hands upon her shoulders.

“Miss Mills, my sincerest apologies, I was startled, I believed you to be sleeping.” He said releasing her.

“I was. I just wanted to get a drink of water.” She said. “What are you doing roaming the hallways anyway? It’s late.”

“I was merely closing a window that was left ajar.” He said dragging his fingers across his eyes. “The storm woke me.” He glanced down and noticed she was wearing only a pair of panties, and a tank top. His pulse immediately quickened, and he felt his muscles stiffen.

“Forgive me.” He barely mustered turning his body perpendicular to hers. “I did not know you were indecent.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t think you would be awake.” She said. “And for the record these _are_ underwear, but they’re boy shorts you really can’t see anything.” She pinched some of the black fabric up from her hips in demonstration. Ichabod kept his eyes straight forward deciding to take her word for it.

“Besides, I know my virtue’s safe with you,” she said stepping away from the wall and continuing on her path.

“And what precisely makes you so sure?” Ichabod heard the words before he understood that he’d said them out loud.

Abbie stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face him with a look of surprise and curiosity. “What?”

“Oh God.” Ichabod swallowed hard, mortified, but far too proud to turn back. “Did you not hear what I said, or did you indeed hear me, and simply require further clarification?” He questioned so sharply, he wondered if the words had actually come from his mouth.

“Umm, the latter.” She responded moving back toward him.

“What do you see when you look at me?” He asked.

“Do you really want me to answer that question?” She started sarcastically, but then softened when she could see he was serious. “Look I’m not sure I follow but fine I’ll play along, my friend, my fellow witness, my partner, am I getting warmer or…”  Before she could finish her sentence he grabbed her by the elbow, and pushed her into a patch of moonlight along the wall.

“—I’m a man Abbie. More or less the same as any other, and I shall forever remain a man. And you are a woman.” He paused momentarily noticing how the moonlight shone across her face and attached to her eyes. “A very intelligent, kind, beautiful, resplendent….. vivacious woman.” He said inching closer with every word. He could feel her trembling beneath his touch, and it only encouraged him forward.

“But to be sure, you are nothing like any woman I have ever encountered, and as such I cannot guarantee that your virtue is indeed safe with me.” He somehow moved impossibly closer.

“Especially since I routinely find myself thwarting off the desire to…to…” He paused as if he suddenly became aware of what he was saying, and how closely he stood to her as he said it.

Abbie stood leaning against the wall meeting his eyes. “To what?” She whispered in a huff.

“You think me stronger than I am. I’m afraid you will have to be the keeper of your own virtue, and guard against the impervious desires of men, not unlike myself. Out of respect for you I’ve warred against myself, and such desires,” His eyes quickly surveyed the length of her body.

“But these boy shorts, as you call them,” He spoke slowly, using one hand to brace himself against the wall behind her, and gently wrapped the other around her hip. His eyes trailed to his hand, and more specifically to the curve of her body underneath it, which he squeezed gently before returning his gaze to hers.

“Only serve to weaken my resolve.” The tail end of his sentence was spoken deep, and soft, as he leaned down and brushed his lips against her ear. He listened to the wind escaping her mouth, and felt it smacking against his shoulder. He pulled his head over, resting his forehead against the top of hers. He thought that she would yell, or admonish him for invading her “personal space”, but she didn’t. She just stared up at him through those thick lashes that he’d always found so fetching.   She drew a jagged breath, and her soft brown eyes disappeared beneath her lids. She was ready and waiting for him. He thought. To move forward, or turn back. But oh, he would take such time with her. He lingered in the moment for a spell, steadying himself in the sudden fullness of the air, and then he pressed through it until his lips collided with hers. The first brush of her full, soft lips against his was like a wave of pleasure that sent a million tiny ripples through his body. He instantly wanted more, so he followed hungrily with a series of consecutive quick kisses and suckles, each one lingering longer than the one before, and sound-tracked with its own moan, mmm, or whatever other noise their bodies came up with to convey their pleasure. He reached down, sliding his hands along the back of her thighs, lifting her up against the wall so he could kiss her more easily. His heart pounded mercilessly as his body pressed tightly to hers, and she moaned at the friction. Ichabod was delighted when she seamlessly wrapped her legs around him confirming that he was not alone in his feelings. Still he was nervous, and uncertain how far she wanted to take things. He slowly but surely inched his hands up her legs until his fingertips were touching the bottom of her rear. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest but he pushed on, inching further up until he was cupping her plump backside tightly. She moaned her approval into his mouth, as he lifted her from the wall, and made for his bedroom, all the while lavishing her with tender kisses. Her bedroom was closer but her bed was merely a queen size as compared to the California King she had chosen for him. He would need every inch of that bed, part of the dresser, and some of the floor for everything he planned to do to her. Once inside his bedroom, he used her back to press the door closed. He stood there with her legs still twirled around him kissing her, the heels of her feet dug into the top of his ass, while her shoulders pressed into the hard wood. He pushed his tongue between her lips, and she erotically reciprocated while grinding her hips against him.

“Mmm what… what are we doing?” Abbie gushed breathlessly as Ichabod trailed kisses along her jaw and neck.

Ichabod brought one of his hands from Abbie’s rear, and lightly positioned it on the side of her neck. He managed to speak between rapid breaths, “I am preparing to make love to the woman I adore,” he kissed her softly, “the woman I love,” his mouth returned to her, sucking her bottom lip as he fought to tear his mouth away.

“Do you wish me to stop?” Even with the lightning and thunder raging outdoors, all the world seemed still, and quiet, as he awaited her answer.

She cupped his cheeks with her hands. “I don’t want you to ever stop.” His mouth was covering hers before she could finish her sentence. Her sweet kisses tingled through his lips, as his body long deprived, ached for more. His hands grasped tightly around the round of her bottom as he kissed her passionately. Breaking the kiss he began trickling soft supple kisses down her neck and shoulders, she moaned fervently. He wanted to slowly taste every inch of her but his desire to be inside of her wouldn’t forgive such time, so he decided to taste the more…important parts. Abbie reached down, and pulled her t-shirt over her head, exposing her bare breast. Ichabod gazed at her longingly, and shook his head.

“You’re…”  He was lost for words. Ichabod pinned her against the door using one hand to support her while using the finger, and thumb of his other to carefully needle her breast. It was almost as if he were deciding which one he wanted inside of his mouth first. He slowly traced circles around her nipples, and then bent following his fingers with his mouth. He let his tongue flutter upon her nipple before taking it inside of his mouth and sucking. Abbie’s head fell back against the door as she moaned with pleasure. He placed his hand behind her neck, and softly stroked her throat with his thumb as he sucked, licked, and nipped along her neck and collarbone. He used the force of his body to pin her against the door. He took his hand from her neck and slid it along her outer thigh dipping his fingers beneath the fabric of her boy shorts until his large digits covered her rear. He squeezed intensely while pulling her tightly against his engorged member.

He moaned low, and throatily closing his eyes, and bowing his head feeling as though he might explode. He stilled himself for a short period trying to contain his excitement. For months now he had fancied Abbie. Her wit, charm, and unparalleled beauty. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d wanted to run his hands along the contours of her figure, or imagined clutching her bottom…tasting her…entering her. To be in this moment having taken her tender breast inside of his mouth, while holding her glorious arse in the palm of his hands was a bit overwhelming.   It was almost as if Abbie sensed this and drew patient and still.

“Hold on to me.” He commanded leading her to wrap her hands around his neck.

“Tighter.” He ordered, and she did as he asked. Putting her down was not an option, letting her out of his arms was out of the question, he needed to feel her skin against his. He dipped his hands into the top of her panties and slid them over her ass. “Are you holding on?” She nodded nibbling the side of his ear. He nudged her legs from around him until they dangled straight down. He pulled her underwear down her legs bending slightly to force them past her knees, and she kicked them off the rest of the way.

“There, now come back to be.” He said indicating he was ready for her legs to wrap around him once more. He could feel her wetness dampening his t-shirt, and groaned into her mouth at her excitement for him. He pulled his lips from hers.

“My god, Abbie.”

He moaned against the side of her cheek. He wanted to tell her how wet she was, how beautiful she was, but he wanted to show her more. He once again claimed her mouth as he pushed his tongue through her lips. Ichabod slipped one hand between them, sliding a finger through her wet folds, exploring all the way up to her tiny pearl. He rubbed and stroked her gently there. He closed his eyes, and moaned at the feeling of her slick desire slipping over his fingertips. He felt like a blessed man. He thought about how thankful he was for this wonderful woman, this moment, to be alone with her in this room. This room with the especially high ceilings because they enabled him to place his hands beneath her rear and lift her up the wall until her thighs rested upon his shoulders. It was then that he kissed and pushed his tongue through her other set of lips. It was abrupt, and unexpected how quickly he’d thrown her further up the door, but her cries of pleasure let him know it was welcome. Her moans pushed him on as he wrapped his hands around her thighs, and focused all of his attention upon the pinnacle between her delicate, wetter, vertical lips. One of her hands was tangled in his hair while the other one reached out and held on to the top of the doorframe. She used it to anchor herself, as she gently rolled herself against his mouth.

Before long her rhythm quickened, and he could feel her body approaching climax. His name crawled out of her mouth in broken, lost, syllables, as her sweetness rapidly ground against him. And then with one final lay of his tongue, she stopped screaming his name altogether, and started screaming God’s instead. Her entire body shook with pleasure as the waves of her orgasm crashed against her one after another. He let her rest there a moment, until her breathing began to even, and her shaking lessoned. He slowly brought her down until she once again wrapped her arms around his neck. Her legs were dead, and he knew that they were too weak to wrap around him so he threw them over his forearm and carried her to the bed. He laid her body down gently.

“Mmmm, come here, my love” Ichabod swooned. Lying down beside her, and kissing her passionately, he took his time running his hands along the edges of her frame. He was emboldened by the way her body had just reacted to his touch. He’d shown her how good he could make her feel from touching the outside of her body, now he was ready to show her how he could please her on the inside. After several minutes of massaging, kissing, and caressing her he brought her back to arousal.

“Are you ready for me Abbie?” He asked.

“Please” She whined. His heart ached at the lust in her eyes, and he smiled, delighted at her desire for him.

“I need you here.” He said moving her to the top of the bed. He placed her hands around the wooden rails of his headboard, using a pillow to separate it from her head. He got behind her positioning her on her knees so her rear was facing up and towards him. Ichabod who was quite the confident love-maker realized that he could not stimulate her clitoris from this position, at least not without the use of his hands, which he had no intention of using. She had climaxed that way before, from the outside, this time he wanted her to orgasm purely from his manhood touching her deeply within. She was a challenge, stronger than most women, slower to love, and he wanted her to know that he was fully up to the challenge. He took a moment, and ground against her allowing his erection to glide against her wetness. Ichabod grabbed his throbbing cock, and firmly pulled her round bottom to him, grunting as he gently pushed the head of his length into her opening. He eased himself inside, carefully, slowly. His teeth clenched as he searched for his resolve. “You’re so tight…Ab—Ahh—Abbie,” He managed to barely piece together. He stopped short of putting all of him in, giving her the option to decide how much she could take. He could feel the tension in her body, and hear the struggle between pleasure and pain in her moans. “Is it too much for you sweetest.” He breathed, “Or do you..Oh God..desire more of me?”

“Mmm more, please.” Abbie moaned with pleasure, pushing back against him. Ichabod eagerly obliged slowly pushing all of him inside of her until his entire shaft disappeared beneath her plump ass. He flung his head back face contorted as if he were in pain, but it was the best feeling he could ever remember, and he knew immediately he would not last more than a few minutes. He thrusted in and out of her at a snails pace, trying to preserve the moment, and his sanity for that matter. She was moaning incessantly, and her sensual cries nearly undid him, but still he held on focusing his attention on that particular spot that seemed to elicit the loudest moans.

He fucked her properly, pulling her ass back, as he pushed forward, grinding into her when he could push forward no more. He gave her everything he had, and took all that she had to offer. Each time he plunged back in he was rewarded with a cry, whimper, or moan, and sometimes all three. He tried desperately not to think of how good it felt to be inside of her, especially when he pushed in every inch, and her ass fattened against the front of his hips. He glanced down at the visual and immediately cried out. He leaned his torso over hers, and planted soft loving kisses along her shoulders, and neck, while slowly pumping into the deepest parts of her.   His legs were weakening, and his body was begging for release, but sensing she was close to her climax, he found the resolve for a few more strokes.

“Ichabod, Ohhh.” She whimpered. He leaned over her pumping with sheer purpose.

“Mmmmm, I quite enjoy the way my name sounds falling from your lips, say it once more.” He whispered into her ear wrapping his arms tightly around her.

“Oh Ich!” Realizing she was ready to come he quickly straightened his back, and locked his hips, pulling her against him into, stiff, hard, strokes. “A boahhhhhhad!” She screamed as he felt her pulsating and tightening around him……..

 

“Ichabod!   Ichabod! You have to wake up! Abbie pleaded shaking him.

“I’m telling you, you have no business waking a soldier from his sleep” Jenny warned looking up from the computer.

“ICHABOD!” Abbie belted.

AAAHH!!! Miss Mills! What? Huh? Forgive me!” Ichabod leapt what seemed to be ten feet in a sweaty panic confused as to his whereabouts. The room seemed to be spinning around him, aided by the blinding sunlight that fell in through the egress windows. He raised his hand to shield his eyes. He slowly gathered himself, realizing he had fallen asleep on the couch after seeing Miss Mills to bed.

“Crane I’m sorry but it sounded like you were sobbing I was worr...” Abbie had been looking up speaking to Ichabod, as she generally did, but for the first time she looked down, and realized he had, well…a massive erection.

Jenny having taken recess from typing looked on, mouth agape. Ichabod who was still wiping sleep out of his eyes became suspect of the silence, and eyes upon him looked down to see what they were staring at.

“I beg your pardon!” He screamed grabbing the nearest throw pillow to cover himself. “I….It…….Please excuse me presently.” He sputtered retreating hastily to the washroom.

Abbie’s eyes still widened looked at Jenny questioningly. “Did. . . . . . . . . . .was . . . . . . .” She started again. “Would you say?”

Jenny knows exactly what Abbie is thinking. “Huge!” She answered holding her hands up trying to mimic the size of Ichabod’s penis. “What the fuck, he has a freaking uterus bruiser.”

“Okay, because I thought it was. . . .reaaally impressive.” Abbie lauded collapsing onto the couch.

After securing the lock behind him Ichabod kneeled before the toilet, and hung his head over the stool. He heaved in an effort to release the knots occupying his stomach, but found no reprieve. He tried a few times more, but ultimately failed to muster up more than a few mouthfuls of spit. He felt he could die from embarrassment. In defeat he sat upon the floor, and leaned back against the bathtub. He rested his hands on his head, and tried desperately to untangle the emotions that had gotten him into this mess. He blamed himself for allowing his mind to wander toward Abbie in an improper manner. Only he didn’t allow it. She simply had a way of pervading his thoughts, even when he wasn’t aware of it.

Ichabod stood and splashed some cold water on his face, following it with a hand towel. He lingered for a moment staring into the mirror trying to understand how he hadn’t seen her coming…penetrating, and dwelling in spaces within him he’d thought closed off. He couldn’t help but feel that he had somehow taken advantage of Miss Mills, even though it was only a dream. He didn’t know how he could look her in the eye without feeling guilty and ashamed. _You must stop this Ichabod, you are already married, and you cannot have her._ He silently said to his reflection. _I do not have romantic feelings for Miss Mills. She is my best friend, and fellow witness, nothing more. Even if I did carry such affections, and even if I were free to act upon them, it’s highly improbable that those feelings would be reciprocated. It was just a silly dream, I do not have feelings for Miss Mills. God, please will it so._ Ichabod silently repeated the sentences a few more times trying to convince himself of their veracity.

 

 


	7. Coming to Grips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I really enjoyed Joe Corbin on the show, August Corbin did not have any children in this story. It is also assumed that though Jenny and Abbie were separated, they reconciled sooner than depicted on the show.

 

 

The following morning Abbie sat up abruptly in bed. Her eyes carefully searched the perimeter of the room until she was satisfied that no demons were present. She let out a heavy breath, and fell back against the pillows. For a while she lay with her eyes pointed toward the ceiling recollecting the previous day’s events. She silently hoped that today would be much easier both mentally, and physically. Her legs were still sore from the previous night’s battles, but she didn’t mind really. It was exactly what she needed to remind her that this was all real. The previous night they had been engaged in a fierce battle with Moloch’s minions, and opted to sleep at the cabin.   She and Jenny shared the bedroom, while Crane took the sofa-bed in the great room. She cringed thinking about how ashamed he was after she had woken him the previous morning. Though she was certain he knew there was no reason to feel bad, he obviously did. He spent the majority of the day in his room, even going so far as to take his supper there. Come to think of it, the only time that he spoke to her all day was when they were chasing down a demon. She hoped today that he would put the matter behind him. Grabbing her clothes she headed off to the bathroom to wash up before getting dressed. Even though she bathed the night before, she could never bring herself to just throw on her clothes. She always felt that there were certain areas that could use a touch up. When she came out of the bathroom she realized Ichabod and Jenny were already outside. She grabbed a light sweater, and stepped outdoors to find Ichabod chopping wood, while Jenny cleaned her guns.

“Wow you two are up early, am I the only one feeling the effects from last night?” Abbie said to Jenny.

“No, I just came out here, and he was already up.” Jenny responded nodding in Ichabod’s direction.

Abbie walked over to Ichabod who was so enthralled with splitting wood that he didn’t notice her coming until she was just in front of him.

“Oh Miss Mills, I did not see you there. Good morrow.”  

Abbie grinned shyly, “Good morning Crane, how long have you been at it?”

“A good while, I find it rather therapeutic. Would you like to try your hand?” He questioned holding out the axe.

“I don’t know the first thing about splitting wood, besides are you sure you want me wielding an axe almost as long as me?” Abbie joked.

“I expect you’ll fare quite nicely, and of course I shall be here to guide you through it.” Ichabod looked towards the wood pile. “Let’s see, first, we need to find you a good chump.”

“Excuse me, I thought we were chopping wood not finding me a date, who, I might add, would never be a chump.” Abbie stated.

“You misunderstand me Lieutenant, I take it chump now means a fellow of some sort, wherein in my time it is simply a block of wood. If however, it is taken to now mean a fellow who is likened to a block of wood, I would have to disagree with your previous assertion, having shared words with Mr. Morales.” He fished through the pile for a sturdy piece of wood.

Abbie rolled her eyes not bothering to argue the point.

Ichabod placed the block upon the splitting post, and handed Abbie the axe. “Very well, the second thing you need to do is determine the appropriate distance for which to split the wood. Your arm wielding the ax should be fully extended upon impact.” Ichabod started to reach for Abbie’s waist to help her get into the appropriate position, but withdrew his hand at the last moment. Now that he was making a conscious effort to limit contact between the two of them, he was beginning to realize the freedoms he had taken with her. He often unwittingly touched, or grasped her body as if it were somehow acceptable, as if she was someone who belonged to him. It wasn’t something he thought about, rather it simply happened naturally. He took a step back.  

“If you would stand here.” He said pointing to the space he wanted her to occupy.   Jenny shook her head as she looked up from cleaning her guns.

“Very well, now I will have you spread your feet a shoulders width apart, and recheck your distance to ensure that it is accurate.” Ichabod stepped beside Abbie, and looked on as she made sure her spacing was correct.

“Like this?” She asked.  

“Perfect, now finally, you are prepared to split the chump.” Abbie lifted the axe up high into the air, swinging it behind her back.

“Miss Mills you needn’t hold it that far behind your head, it is merely a piece of wood, not an entire tree trunk.” After briefly trying to explain to Abbie the proper way to hold the axe, Ichabod stood behind her putting his arms around hers showing her how to lift it straight up into the air. His pulse quickened as her familiar scent invaded his olfactory senses. Flashes of his dream crept through his mind, visions of her cries as he entered her, the noise the headboard made as it clanked against the wall, the way she felt surrounding him, the joy he felt inside of her. His mouth involuntarily moistened, as he strove to ward off such thoughts. Abbie concentrated on holding the axe steady, but it was difficult as the feel of him barely touching behind her caused the hairs on the back of her neck to rise, and her breath to flatten. She blushed at the increased wetness between her thighs. She was becoming more accustomed to it, as simply standing close to him, or hearing his voice could cause her to become wet, but she still felt embarrassed. So much so that she had even lied, and told Jenny that she’d misplaced a box of panty liners they had recently purchased, too ashamed to tell her that she was using them every day, several times a day, just to keep her panties dry.  

“Now straight down with it.” He instructed. Abbie followed his direction, and heard the crack as she cut cleanly through the wood.

“Whew, that was kind of exhilarating, pretty cool.” She chimed.

“And on the first attempt, you should be quite pleased.” Ichabod added.

“As should you, you taught me well, load up another one I’m ready,” she said extending her fist to bump Ichabod’s. He extended his fist to bump hers, but then quickly averted his eyes. He was acting really strange, it seemed as though he was doing everything in his power not to look at her, like she wasn’t even there. She began to wonder if he would rather be alone right then. If perhaps she was disturbing him from something he enjoys doing on his own.

“Ahem” Ichabod and Abbie turned to see Jenny standing in front of them with her hands resting on her hips.

“Having fun?” she asked Abbie with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice.

“A little.” Abbie shot back somewhat defensively.

“Great, are you guys’ hungry?” Jenny questioned.

“I certainly could eat?” Ichabod responded hastily. His dream was still all too fresh in his mind, he needed time away from Miss Mills to recollect his thoughts. To be near her, was to want her.

“Me too,” Jenny replied. Abbie would you like to join me in the kitchen.”

“I was actually……” Abbie briefly deliberated whether she wanted to question Crane about his peculiar behavior.

“Sure I’d love to help.”  She decided after seeing the disappointed look on Jenny’s face.

“What is this about?’ Abbie asked as soon as they entered the kitchen.

Jenny pulled a few eggs, and a carton of egg beaters out of the refrigerator. “I’ll give you two hints. He’s roughly 6’2, incredibly handsome, and _married_.”

Abbie handed her a medium sized bowl out of the cupboard. “That’s three hints, C’mon Jen how many times are we going to go through this?” Abbie asked slightly annoyed. Jenny had been questioning her for months about what she considered to be an increasingly disturbing level of affection between her and Ichabod.

Jenny stopped what she was doing “That depends on how many times you’re going to lie to me about it,” she scolded.

”I didn’t lie” Abbie said washing her hands. She turned off the faucet and hung her head as she dried her hands with paper towel. Her sister hadn’t said anything but she could feel her eyes boring into her, she lifted her head.

“Okay I lied, I admit it, I lied, but I didn’t know what to say or what to do. _I_ barely understand the feelings that I’m having Jenny, how can I explain them to someone else.”   She questioned.

Jenny moved closer to her. “You didn’t have to explain them to someone else Bells, it’s just me. I am you, you are me, we are”

“—All we’ve got.” Abbie finished her sentence. “I know, I know,” Abbie shook her head “I just thought that maybe…maybe it’s not such a big deal, or that maybe I could wish these feelings away.” She sighed. “Only it hasn’t been happening that way. “I don’t know what you want me to say, you already know how important he is to me.” She confessed. “I care about him.”

“And?” Jenny stared at her.

Abbie looked at her crazily “And that’s it, period. He’s married, end of story.” Jenny and Abbie communicated with their body language just as much as they did verbally from the time they were very young. Jenny twisted her head to the side indicating that she wasn’t quite sold on her sister’s story. Abbie looked her in the eye, and gave a slight nod of affirmation.

Jenny shook her head. “Okay, but Bells if you could only see the way you look at him, how can you be so sure? I’ve never seen you look at anyone that way. That coupled with the way he’s always fawning over you is a recipe for disaster.”

Abbie’s eyes lit up. “You think he fawns over me?” Her voice filled with an air of hopeless enthusiasm.

“Ugh, do you see what I mean?” Jenny sighed, causing Abbie to giggle.

Jenny began stirring the egg mixture. It’s beside the point, hand me the milk. The point is, he has a wife who you guys are trying to rescue from purgatory. What do you think will happen when you do? Men like Ichabod, as rare as they may be, will always choose what’s right over their own desires, and I don’t want to see you do something that you regret, or get hurt.” Jenny advised.

“Okay little big sister, you think I don’t know that. First, we are just friends, so there is no expectation, and there is no choice. He’s in love with his wife. Second, even if he shared similar feelings, which he _doesn’t_ , I would never want him to change, or do something so outside of who he is for me. I wouldn’t want that, and I would never ask it of him. But as I previously said the entire discussion is moot, because I am alone here."

Jenny moved closer to her sister. “You’re never alone, you’ve got me.” Jenny promised.

Abbie took a quick recess from the pan in front of her to lean her head onto her sister’s shoulder. “I know I do.”

Jenny returned to chopping vegetables. “Do you think part of it is that you can’t really see or date anyone with how chaotic your life is now? I mean I know I feel that way, there’s no time, and it just wouldn’t be fair. Maybe you’re just missing that part of your life, and your feelings for Icky are a way to compensate for that loss. If that’s the case there’s definitely an easy remedy.” Jenny offered.

Abbie grabbed some turkey sausage, bacon, and jam from the refrigerator. Abbie made a lot of modifications to her diet for the sake of staying fit, but bacon she never compromised on.

“Well while I completely agree that my love life is undeniably over, I’m not sold on the whole I’m sublimating my lack of a love life with feelings for Crane. I think it has less to do with that, and more to do with the fact that..well he’s kind, I mean he would go to the ends of the earth to help a complete stranger, and he’s practically a genius, and you know I have a thing for smart men. Not to mention he’s handsome, funny, quirky, and on top of all that he can be a little bit of an asshole, which renders him completely attractive. If all of that wasn’t enough…sometimes when he looks at me,” Abbie held her hand to her chest “I forget to breathe. Not like my breath hitches or gets caught, it actually stops flowing altogether. But hey, let’s hear it Jung junior, if things are as you believe, what’s the fix?” She questioned.

“Here’s the problem; for you relationships, love and sex have always been blended. You have to learn to separate things. You don’t have to seriously date a man just to sleep with him.” Jenny stated.

Abbie’s eyes raised, and her mouth opened instinctively. “Sex! That’s the big solution—sex. Wow, why didn’t I think of that.” Abbie said mockingly, “I just need to get laid. Honestly I umm…I think it’s bigger than that, and I just decided I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“Maybe if you talked a little more about it you wouldn’t be having this problem. You know maybe if you would have had more than a total of two lovers.”

Abbie stopped turning the sausage and looked up from the skillet. “Seriously this conversation is over.”

“Fine.” Jenny said

“Fine,” Abbie agreed. She returned her attention to the food she was cooking and counted backwards in her head _three, two, one._

“I mean seriously Bells what woman at our age has only bedded two men?”

Abbie shook her head. “Here we go.”

I’m not attacking you, but it’s clear a love life doesn’t fit well with what you’ve been called to do, and I’m sorry you have to go through that, particularly since you didn’t have more fun when we were younger, but it doesn’t mean you can’t have a healthy sex life now.” She insisted.

“I am certainly not having sex with some _random_ guy, I can’t imagine it, it’s not my idea of a good time, and I know myself, the probability of me enjoying it with some stranger is slim to none.” Abbie retorted.

“I’m definitely not saying just sleep with some random guy; instead find a decent guy who isn’t interested in a relationship beyond a sexual nature. I mean c’mon, it’s really not that hard.” Jenny offered.

“I bet.” Abbie laughed, “I hear you, I understand what you’re saying, and though I don’t think it’s plausible, I’ll give it some thought. Now can we move on?” Abbie questioned trying to put an end to the unpleasant discussion.

Jenny nodded her head. “Of course, that’s all I want is for you to consider it, don’t close yourself off to other men, for someone who literally has someone waiting on him.”

“No I get it, the ridiculousness of it, I totally do, but..

“But? But what?”

“Honestly Jen, right now the thought of someone else touching me besides… you know who, is a little repulsive. How twisted is that” Abbie grimaced, “He’s a married man.” She added scrunching her nose up in complete confusion.

Jenny nodded. “Married to a witch at that, and you’ve seen what he’s working with, hell you already _know_ she isn’t gonna let that go—even after two-hundred years.   I’m sure all of those memories stuck with her. Hell I’m surprised she hasn’t broken _herself_ out of purgatory.” Jenny joked. They both began laughing until they worked themselves into hysterics. Abbie regretted not letting Jenny in sooner, she always knew how to make her feel better. Ichabod entered the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

“What a sumptuous aroma!” He glanced at the sisters, “And what might you two lovely ladies be discussing, causing such an uproarious state?” He questioned taking a gulp of his water.

“Penises.” Jenny deviously smirked at Ichabod causing him to gag on the fluid in the back of his throat, and spew out half of his mouths contents.

“Ahem, ahem, ahem.  “He coughed leaning over the sink.

“Are you okay?” Abbie questioned growing concerned.

“I’m fine, I’ve only just realized—ahem, that I need to sever more fire wood.” He said briskly retreating from the kitchen.

Abbie turned around shaking her head at Jenny who was all too pleased with herself. “Why? Why do you torture him?”

“I’m sorry but it’s so easy, and too much fun. Did you see his face?” She laughed.

 

**A few weeks later**

Ichabod leaned back in his seat peering out of the car window. It had been nearly three weeks since what he’d come to regard as the most embarrassing moment of his life had transpired. That moment was only made worse by Miss Mill’s insistence that there was no cause for his shame, and there was a “perfectly plausible biological explanation for your uhhh- for what happened this morning.” She didn’t know the half of it. If that wasn’t injury enough, the following morning Miss Jenny made several snide comments that made it impossible to lay the regrettable experience to rest. And when he finally mustered up the courage to ask her why she found such joy in chastising him, she asked him if he wanted the kinder version or the hard dick. She’d erupted in laughter, as he felt his cheeks start to burn.   After that he felt as though he was on constant guard. He realized that though he couldn’t repress his feelings for Miss Mills in his sleep, he could work to control them when he was conscious, and he did. He couldn’t believe it when he read that roughly half of all the country’s marriages end in divorce. It’s really quite preposterous he thought. Why certain people bothered with getting married at all was beyond him. He’d seen the way things were projected on television programming. Men and women alike were using misconstrued notions of fairness, and happiness as justification for their own selfish indulgences. Nonetheless it did make for a most enjoyable television viewing experience. In fact, last Sunday he’d watched Cheaters for nearly five hours in one sitting, it was actually quite addicting. “I didn’t mean for this to happen” or “It was an accident” they would all proclaim. One thing he knew for sure was that no one ever accidentally had an affair. It is always a decision, and there is always a moment of choice. A moment when you decide whether the love and life you’ve built, and nourished with your spouse is worth protecting, and preserving. At any rate whatever choice is made, it would seem most sensible that your spouse be the first person informed of it. Since the dream, Ichabod took great measures to keep more effective boundaries between him and Abbie. He only looked at her when absolutely necessary and even then, never for too long of a period. He opted to read in the den or his sleeping chambers, instead of in the family room. It seemed that things were going much smoother since these measures had been implemented. However, she still haunted his dreams, sometimes elicit, other times not, but always inappropriate. Whether it was spoken, or not, in those dreams it was always clear that they were in love, as he would kiss and hold her freely. The glorious morning sun was always most unwelcome, how he dreaded greeting the new day, leaving barren all which he had throughout the night.

“Miss Mills, I believe we missed our turn back there, and to the right”

“Oh yeah I forgot to tell you I need to make a quick stop—I mean, a few quick stops before we head home. I shouldn’t take too long, but if you have something you need to do I can take you home first.” Abbie stated.

‘No. I have no problem with accompanying you on a few errands, I merely thought that we missed our turn.”

Abbie pulled into the parking lot of a local floral shop, and put the car in park.

“I’ll be right back.” She stated grabbing her purse before exiting the vehicle. This day seemed to only be getting worse. For weeks now Ichabod had been acting really distant. She had already asked him twice if she had done something to offend him, and each time he reassured her that she hadn’t. Still there was just something amiss in the way they related to each-other lately. She noticed that he kept conversations with her very concise, and rarely ever joined her in the playful banter they used to enjoy. Somewhere inside of her she knew that he was still her dear and true friend, it just rarely ever felt like it.

Abbie entered the floral shop, and begin browsing for the perfect arrangement.   Today was Corbin’s birthday and she wanted to leave some flowers at his grave. With everything that had transpired since his death, she felt that she hadn’t had the chance to grieve him properly. It was doubtful that she ever would.

“Evening, something I can help you find dear?”

Abbie smiled at the older women standing before her. Yes ma’am I’m looking for a nice arrangement with tulips.” No, on second thought lilies.” Abbie reconsidered briefly then decided again. “Tulips.”

“Why don’t we do both?” The woman asked.

“Okay.” Abbie agreed.

“If you don’t mind me asking who are they for, and is it for a special occasion?” She asked

“Uhh. They’re for” Abbie saw quick flashes of Corbin stemming from her first encounter with him to his untimely demise. “They’re for my dad, it’s his birthday.” Abbie stated trying to keep her composure.

“Oh, well then, we ought to make these extra special. Aren’t you a sweet girl getting these flowers for your father, always seems like the mothers get all the flowers.”

Abbie smiled politely as the woman started putting together the arrangement. The old lady worked quickly adding, and sometimes taking away various flowers, and colors. “Well what do you think?” She asked bearing a wide smile.

“I love them, they’re perfect” Abbie responded.

Flowers in tote she felt a great heaviness come over her on the way back to the car. Jenny was off only God knows where chasing down a lead. Ichabod…well just wasn’t himself anymore, and today further cemented the fact that Corbin was gone forever.   She felt more alone than she had in a very long time. There was a time when she didn’t mind being alone, in fact she welcomed it, but after living through all she had these last few years she wanted the people she held dear close.

She got back in the car, and Ichabod as per usual didn’t even acknowledge her existence. However, she didn’t waste any time dwelling on it as her mind drifted a thousand miles away. They rode to the cemetery in complete silence.

“I’ll be back in a few.” Abbie informed him hopping out of the car. She started walking down the curved gravel road when she heard Ichabod following behind her.

“I thought perhaps I should accompany you.” He stated, standing with his hands locked behind his back. Abbie raised both eyebrows. _Even though you’ve been completely aloof when communicating with me, you have the nerve to still try to be overbearing because you think I might be in some kind of danger_. She thought. She had noticed that he been watching her more closely than usual when they were working. If they were fighting against monsters, demons, or humans in league with them, it seemed to be getting to the point where he paid more attention to her wellbeing then his own. She began to deeply resent it, and wondered if it had something to do with the way he’d been acting. She could hold her own as well as any man, but for whatever reason he seemed not to trust that she could. He doubted her, she thought, and she had given him no cause to. She didn’t need a babysitter, or some strong man to swoop in, and rescue little defenseless Abbie every time things got tough. _I’m a police officer, I do the rescuing._

She put her hands in her pocket, to shield against the unusually nippy air. “You thought wrong Crane, I’ve got this. You can just wait in the car.” She ordered while backpedaling down the road.

“But Miss Mills we shall soon lose the sun, and I would find it more comfortable if I were by your side.” Ichabod pleaded.

“Well that makes one of us, because I sure wouldn’t. There aren’t any goblins, or monsters out here, and this isn’t business. It’s personal and private, and I don’t want you to come with me, so please just wait in the car.” She demanded with a look of disgust, and fatigue spreading across her face.

She felt a bit bad for being so mean to Crane, but it seemed as if all of her anger towards him just began spilling over. It’s not like he wanted to come with her out of friendship and support, he probably just offered to come out of some warped notion of nobility. Besides it seemed like he was already questioning her ability to hold her own, and the last thing she needed was for him to see her fall apart.   She kneeled down, and removed the old dead flowers from Corbin’s vase, before placing the new arrangement in it. “Happy Birthday. I bet you thought I forgot, with everything that’s going on, but no chance old man. I have so much to tell you I don’t know where to begin.”

Ichabod watched from a distance as Abbie sat beside the grave. At first he wasn’t certain who she had come to visit, but then quickly remembered seeing Corbin’s obituary. Today’s date was listed as his birth date so he was relatively certain that’s who she’d come to visit. His heart hung heavy after their frosty exchange. She was so angry, and spoke to him with such venom and animosity. He knew that she had grown weary of his detached and unsociable mannerisms, but he was doing all he could to evade his true feelings for her. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t working, as she seemed to possess his thoughts and dreams more than ever. He could see her wiping tears away, and just that vision broke him. He instinctively started moving closer to her.

“I’m trying to do what you told me to, you know smile more, worry less, and…..it works …..sometimes,……..I think,” her voice began cracking, “it would be a lot easier if I didn’t miss you so damned much.” Abbie sobbed. “I think about you all the time, and everything you’ve done for me. I used to watch you, you know, the way you were with the little league kids, the way you supported, and encouraged them every inning no matter what. I would watch you and I would think wow, it’s such a shame he never had kids because he would’ve been really great at it. I used to think that you would have been the best dad that anyone could hope for. Now that you’re gone, I’ve realized that…you did have kids. I know you aren’t my biological father, but you were there for me in _every_ way that counts, and I know you were there for Jenny.” She cried. “I want you to know how much I love and appreciate you for that, and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you all of this sooner. The only place that I _ever_ felt safe was with you. That’s what a parent does, they make you feel safe, and you did that for me. What really sucks is that I didn’t even recognize the feeling, that security, until it was gone.   I am ……..scared. All the time. And I’m not sure that I can pull this thing off without you.   So if there is any light, or guidance you wanna cast down, please do. Abbie closed her eyes and whispered softly to the ground as her tears slipped from her face into the cool soil. “I love you; I _miss_ you, until we meet again.”

Abbie rose to find Ichabod standing less than a few feet away from her. “ _Of course he didn’t stay in the car, why would he, I only asked him to.”_ He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a tissue. Abbie wiped her tears away with her hand.

“No thanks I’m fine.” 

Ichabod extended his arm further trying to offer her the Kleenex. “Lieutenant please.” He pleaded.

“No.” She reiterated. “And I thought I asked you to wait in the car.” She scolded drying the last of her tears against her hand.

“That you did.” He replied.

“Then why, may I ask, aren’t you in said car?” Abbie asked starting to move past him.

“Miss Mills.” Ichabod said reaching out and grasping a hold of her forearm. She pulled her arm away just as he grabbed it, but stopped walking nonetheless. She looked up at him, waiting for him to say something, anything that could help her to understand the way he’d been acting. Ichabod looked into Abbie’s swollen brown eyes, and could tell that she was searching for answers and explanations he simply did not have. He couldn’t tell her how much it pained him to see her in so much grief.   He could never relay how badly he wanted to make her feel better. How he longed to take her home, run her a hot bath, and catch every tear that fell from her eyes with his lips. It wasn’t that he was at a loss for words, rather he could not say the ones he thought.

Abbie, having grown impatient, shook her head against his silence and started towards the car. She felt his hand around her belly first. Second, her forward motion suddenly ceased as she felt herself being pulled backwards into his arms. Her eyes closed as she winced at the joy, pain, love, and anger she felt being locked in his embrace. Her head fell back against his chest as her hands found his, and she struggled to pry them loose from her abdomen.

“Let go.” She managed to say through clenched teeth. Her eyes reddening and filling with water all over again. Ichabod reluctantly released her. She pushed away from his arms, turning around to face him, a mix of wonder and irritation blanketing her face. He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away. His arms sought her out again, this time not to be denied. He wrapped her in his embrace, holding her close as her tiny frame finally stopped struggling and gently shook against his. After a few minutes her whimpers subsided, but he held on to her still, rubbing his hands up and down her back, serving as a plethora of tiny apologies. He whispered his regrets for the loss of her former captain, and mentor into the top of her head.  

They stood this way for what seemed like forever, after a while Abbie dried her tears and pulled herself out of his arms.

“Wait,” she pushed her hair out of her face “so does this mean, what, we’re like suddenly friends again?” she asked, her voice was filled with hurt, and still raw from all the crying.

Ichabod slightly cocked his head to the side. “Abbie, I have remained your faithful and true friend since the day our alliance was forged, and I shall remain so evermore.” he assured her brushing the single remaining tear from her cheek. He knew this part of her existed, this softer side hidden beneath a brigade of defenses, only so rarely he saw it, that it was easy to forget that it was there at all. He silently chided himself for allowing his private feelings to harm their friendship.

“But you barely speak to me, unless it’s regarding work, I just……..I don’t understand. Did I _do_ something?”

“Positively not, Abbie you have done nothing wrong.” He looked off into the approaching darkness. “I have been struggling with my own demons, so to speak.”

“We both struggle with demons, it’s what we do.” She says gazing up at him, “I just don’t get why you wouldn’t share it with me. You are my closest friend, if there is something bothering you I want to help, I want to be there for you, but you have to let me.” Abbie reasoned.

“I admire your loyalty and value your friendship more than I could ever say, but I fear it is something that I shall have to contend with on my own.” Ichabod stated placing a hand around her arm.

Abbie raised her voice. “You know what forget it.” She said shrugging away from his touch and throwing her hands up.

“If you want to go it alone be my guest, but you don’t have to treat the people around you,” she pressed her fingers into his chest, “People that _care_ about you, like they don’t matter, like they don’t exist.”   She felt such a fool as she stood there wondering when he became so important to her. How could she allow someone else’s presence in her life to become so pivotal?

Ichabod felt like Abbie’s words had grown hands and fingers, and were reaching inside of his chest physically squeezing his heart. He couldn’t stop thinking about how she didn’t deserve any of this, and how she shouldn’t have to feel the way she felt right now.

“Abbie please, it was never my intention to make you feel that you are of less importance to me than you actually are. Your friendship…..you mean more to mean than I can say. It is merely…… how can I relay this? Have you ever cared very, very deeply for someone and not been able to express it. Have you ever longed for something so intensely that it haunts your dreams, even though in your waking life it is unattainable?”

A light bulb went off in Abbie’s head. _He misses his wife, of course he misses his wife. That’s why he’s been acting so withdrawn lately._

“Crane, I know things have been difficult, and I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, but listen to me, we are going to free Katrina. I promise that I will do _whatever_ I can to help you get your wife back. I am so sorry that you’ve been suffering through this all alone, of course you’re heartbroken. But you have to keep the faith, we’ll get it figured out, I promise.” Abbie pledged gripping Ichabod’s hand. She felt terrible that she had been so caught up in her own thoughts, and desires that she couldn’t recognize how much pain he’d been in. He went to sleep married, and awoke here alone. He needed the comfort of his wife, and she was going to help him get her back.

Ichabod gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and found that he had no desire to release it, though he did. He’d spent countless hours trying to devise a plan to free Katrina from purgatory, he swore to find her, to free her, and he intended to do just that. Still hers was not the love he craved, and her face was not the one that haunted his dreams. He couldn’t share these thoughts with Abbie, so he allowed her to believe as she may. He did however resolve to be strong, and find another way to escape the nuances surrounding his feelings for her. But this distance, his withdrawal from her presence, and their friendship hurt her, and as such it would not suffice.

“Miss Mills your hands are freezing, are you cold?” Ichabod questioned.

Abbie nodded her head, “A little, we should probably head back.”

Ichabod removed his jacket, and wrapped it around Abbie’s shoulders. “Crane I’m fine, really.” She protested.

“Very well, now you’ll be fine, and warm,” he smiled. While walking back to the car Abbie accidently dropped her car keys, as Ichabod bent down and picked them up, he noticed a small patch of dandelions and couldn’t resist.

“For thy lady,” he said bowing in front of her and offering her the weeds. She accepted them giving him a small smile.

“I know that they are not much, but I can assure you that they are cootie free.” He promised.

Abbie laughed. “How are you so sure, did you get the cootie shot? They chuckled for a brief moment.

“Miss Mills, I think it best that I drive us home this evening.” Abbie thought of telling Ichabod that she was fine, and perfectly able of getting them home in one piece. But truthfully, she was dog-tired, and he was every bit as capable of a driver as she was. She and Jenny had spent a great deal of time teaching him how to drive, and by the time he took his driver education road test he was a pro. As they made it back to the car Ichabod walked over to the passenger side to open the door for Abbie.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She spit out so rapidly that it all sounded like it was one word.

“Lieutenant, you’ve had a long day, I’m merely trying to be helpful.”

Abbie folded her arms, “All things being equal if I were a man, would you be opening my car door right now? Ichabod was silent for a brief moment.

“But you are not a man, and as I previously said you have had an exceedingly long day, so would you rather stand here bickering with me, or would you prefer to enter the vehicle.”

Abbie smiled. “Just as I thought, get in the car, Crane.” She closed the door, and reopened it before climbing into the seat.   Ichabod scoffed at her stubbornness but did as she requested, and slid into the driver’s seat. As soon as he got into the car he noticed Abbie was leaned back in her seat with her eyes closed.

“Miss Mills,” he whispered “What would you like to eat?”

“You choose Crane?” She answered not bothering to open her eyes.

“I understand. I will stop and procure something for us on the way home.” He said softly.   Abbie smiled to herself excited that the invisible wall between she and Ichabod had finally been lifted. She sat listening as _Angel Haze’s Vinyl_ played through the car radio. “ _You know I searched the galaxy to find you, we’re in love, we’re at war, play my song, turn it up, turn it up”,_ she had fallen asleep before the end of it. When they finally arrived home the stars were brightening the dark sky and Abbie was quietly snoozing.   He looked over at her pleased at how restful and relaxed she appeared. He had heard her say before that she could never fall asleep in a car when someone was driving, not even Jenny, actually she had said _especially_ not Jenny. Not because of reasons of lack of comfort, but because she never trusted anyone to pilot the vehicle while she slipped into a state of unconsciousness.   Somehow looking at her now he knew it was important that she had that ability with him. That she trusted him to carry her home safely, and he was honored that he could. He nudged her shoulder. “Lieutenant, we have arrived home.”

“Oh..okay.” She said lazily trying to will her eyes to open. Before she was able to remove her seatbelt Ichabod had grabbed their food, and made it around to the passenger side to open her door. This time she didn’t bother putting up a fight because she was beyond tired, and honestly didn’t have any fight left in her. So after he closed the door and offered her his arm, she took that too. She even rested her head against him a little on the way to the door.


	8. Yours, Mine, and Ours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I will try to update the next chapter quickly. Hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

Ring! Ring!

Abbie awoke to the displeasing high pitched screech of her cell phone. She slowly parted one eye in the general direction of her alarm clock in an effort to discover the time. After realizing that the first digit was a seven, she re-shut her eye, and pulled the blankets over her head. Unfortunately, the noisy rings easily penetrated through her covers, gripping her ear, and ripping her away from a warm, peaceful sleep. She pushed one arm out from under the covers, and felt along her night stand for the source of the racket.

“This had better be good.” She mumbled into the phone not bothering to open her eyes, and determine who was calling.

“And a good morning to you too Lieutenant Mills” Captain Irving said.

Abbie sat up rapidly swinging her legs over the side of her bed. “What’s happened? Is it the Horsemen again? We’ll be right in?”

“Calm down, calm down, there’ve been no further incidents since the one you guys resolved last night, and for once I’m not calling about business.” Irving assured her.

“Then why in the hell are you calling so early, you do realize it’s my day off.” ( _Glancing at her alarm clock)_ “It’s seven fifty-eight _ante_ meridiem.” What on God’s green earth possessed you to call me at this hour?”

“Your clock must be off I have eight o’clock sharp. You might want to get that corrected.” He advised.

Abbie’s eye widened. “I’m sorry, how again is that any better? I was sleeping!” Abbie complained.

“I don’t doubt it, you sound like you haven’t even brushed your teeth. Did you clean the crust out of your eyes yet” Irving teased laughing.

Abbie squinting. “You know what.” Over time, she and Captain Irving had become close friends. He was much less uptight than the man everyone had come to know at the station.  At the end of the day, Abbie understood his reasoning for subduing the lighter side of himself in the workplace.  Their work was important, serious, and hard, and he was their leader, he needed the men and women serving with him to respect him, but he could be himself around Abbie.

“I’m just kidding, I’m only kidding. Look I’m calling to see if you planned on coming to the surprise birthday party they’ve got planned for me tomorrow night?”

“Uhhh how the hell did you find out about that?” Do you know how long the guys have been planning this thing?   Who’s the snitch? I want a name.” Abbie asked.

“I have my ways, you do know I run things around here right? So I take that as a yes that you guys are coming.”

Hearing his words caused something to click for her, and she began to think about the way things changed between she and Ichabod as their bond grew. Apparently, even from the perspective of the outside world. She started to realize that people didn’t refer to her as a singular person very often anymore. She more frequently heard you two, you guys, or the two of you. It was a gradual progression towards unity that happened without her really taking notice until it became complete. At first everything was hers and his, i.e., his axe, her microwave, her car. Then there was this weird intermediary phase where everything lost ownership and became the, the blow-dryer, the lotion, the blender. Finally the era of dual ownership set in, and it felt as if it had always been that way. Everything became ours, and they began saying things like _“What should we do with our day off” or_ “ _This psycho almost slammed into our car”, and “Miss Mills I think it wise if we institute a few more measures to protect the security of our home”_. So when Irving said you guys she already knew that he was implicitly referring to she and Ichabod.

“We’re coming. What is it they say ‘turn up, turn up turn up’, how old are you going to be again?” She laughed.

“Too damn old to eat turnips, or whatever the hell these kids keep talking about, but good, I’m glad to hear you’ll be able to make it. I just wanted you guys to know if there was anyone else you wanted to bring you’re more than welcome. For instance, I know you two live with your sister, and you might not want to eh……you know…….she’s welcome to come.” He gushed.

“Well, well, well. So that’s why you called me at the crack of dawn.” Abbie smiled into the phone. “You just want me to bring my sister to your should be surprise birthday party. I’ll tell you what I will invite Jenny if you tell me why you want her to come. Admit it, you want her body.” Abbie joked.

“I do not want her body, I mean….not that it’s not a nice body because it’s really very—look can you just invite her?”

_(Laughing)_ “I’ve got a better idea why don’t you just give me a note with, do you like me check yes or no written on it, and I’ll give it to her.”

“I was just trying to be a nice guy, and include everyone, it really doesn’t matter to me if she’s there or not so…..” he said.

“Soooo…” Abbie sang.

“So are you going to invite her?”

( _Giggling)._ “I already have Captain. She’s planning on coming with us.”

“Oh, that’s great! Ahem ( _clearing his throat)_ I mean you know this way she won’t feel left out and all, I’m sure you know what I mean.” He stated smiling into the phone.

“I sure do.” Abbie teased.

“Alright well I’ll see you tomorrow.” Irving said.

Abbie hung up her phone, and went about her morning routine. After breakfast she and Jenny went out shopping, while Ichabod opted to hunt down a book they’d been searching for. He was hopeful that it would contain hidden instructions for freeing a soul from purgatory. It took him nearly two hours to find it, still he was elated seeing as they had been searching for it for nearly four months. He sat quietly reading in the coffee shop that Abbie said they would meet him in after they had finished their activities. For the past ten minutes he had noticed the young women behind the counter smiling, and talking while glancing over in his direction. At first he thought perhaps there was a stain, or tear about his person or clothing, but a quick trip to the rest room defeated such notions.   A few minutes later one of the girls casually walked over to his table.

“Can I get you anything else?” She asked, running her hand through her light brown curls.

“Thank you for your kindness Miss, but this delightful cappuccino is all I require for the moment.” Ichabod said. The lady smiled weakly before returning to her post behind the counter. Ichabod pretended not to notice her and the other lady whispering, and throwing glances in his direction. And soon he didn’t. Then all of a sudden he felt a shadow hovering over him.

"Here you go, this is on the house, we have fantastic apple pie here, in fact I’ve been told it’s the best in town.”  

“Oh lovely, many thanks.” Ichabod replied looking down at the plate. He immediately thought of Abbie and her affinity for apple pie. He wondered what she would think of the woman’s assertion. She had previously stated on numerous occasions that Maddie, at the local diner, made the best pie she’d ever tasted.

The woman smiled down at him. “Well if you change your mind, and decide you need something else,” she leaned close to him, “and by something else I mean anything at all, you give me a call.”  She purred handing him a napkin with her name, and number written across it.

“Thank you, Miss…. Julianna,” he said reading her name off of the napkin.  “Your service here has been most wonderful, I will surely let you know if I require anything further.” He stated glancing back hesitantly at the telephone number.

“Is this the telephone number to this establishment? Is it possible to call an order in ahead?” He asked.

“Uh..” she started. Abbie and Jenny came in before she could finish answering.

“Ah.  I trust you two had a pleasant shopping expedition?”

“Yeah, too pleasant.”  Abbie stated sitting her bags in a chair.  “Woo hoo pie, I'm starving, you don’t mind if I just…” Abbie took Ichabod's fork out of his hand and started in on his pie.  “Mmmm, this is delicious, oh.” Ichabod watched her eyes flutter shut as her mouth closed around a bite of pie, he could have watched her eating all day.

“It’s still warm.  Jenny you have to try this.”  Ichabod realized his chances of getting a bite of his own pie were slim to none.

“Forgive my manners. Lieutenant, Miss Jenny, this is Miss Julianna, Miss Julianna this is Miss Abigail Mills, and her sister Miss Jenny Mills.

“Hi pleased to meet you.” She said somewhat uncomfortably.

“Mmm hmm good to meet you as well, did you make this, it’s outstanding?” Abbie questioned looking up from her pie.

“Sure did.” Julianna replied offering a quick smile before glancing again at Ichabod. “Well I better get back to work.”

“Thank you once more Miss Juliana.” Ichabod called after.

Ichabod grinned at Abbie who had consumed almost half of his pie. “Well it most certainly smells delicious.”

“I’m so sorry, you didn’t try any of it? She asked cracking a dry grin knowing full well he hadn’t.

“No, but if you’re offering.” Ichabod inquired moving closer.

Abbie turned her back slowly moving the plate out of his reach.

“Give the man back his pie.” Jenny snickered, heading to the counter to purchase a coffee.

Ichabod wrapped his arms around Abbie, and grabbed the plate. Once he had it he stood and extended his arm away from her.

“Crane! Wait let’s be reasonable and talk about this! Listen, put the pie down, and nobody gets hurt.” Abbie said holding the fork up like a weapon.

Ichabod looked at her with comic disbelief. “Miss Mills you would cause me bodily harm over a pastry?”

“It doesn’t have to come to that!” Abbie warned, as Ichabod returned the plate. “It really is good though, here try.” Abbie said holding a fork full up to his mouth. His eyes skipped from hers to the fork, before he closed them and indulged himself. Abbie smiled at how sexy his eye lashes were, long and straight as opposed to her long curly ones.

“Mmm. That is rather tasty.” he admitted.

“I know right, the only thing missing is the ice-cream.” She stated.

“A question, how would you rank it as compared with Maddie’s pie? Would you say that it tastes superior?”

“Whoa. Let’s not get carried away, it’s good, but not that good.”

Abbie looked down at the rapidly disappearing pie. “Do you want some more?” She questioned gathering up another fork full.

Up at the counter, Julianna’s eyes widened as she looked on. “I feel like such an idiot,” she said handing Jenny her coffee. "I gave him my number, but I didn’t have any idea that he was taken. Tell your sister I meant no disrespect if it comes up.”

“What? You mean those two, they’re not a couple.” Jenny stated. “I’m curious did he ask you for your number?”

“No, I just assumed he was the shy type you know what I mean, so he’s available then?” Julianna asked taking a break from wiping down the counter top.

“Yeah. I mean no. He’s taken just not by—they’re not together.” Jenny stammered.

“Oh. Well somebody might want to let them in on that.” She said nodding in their direction.

Jenny sighed as she turned around to see Abbie feeding Ichabod a bite of pie.

“Oh, I almost forgot I got you something, wait here.”  She stood, and grabbed one of her bags and removed a light brown leather messenger style bag.  “I got it from this little shop we were walking by outside of the mall, it’s all handcrafted.” She gushed.

Ichabod sat quietly, running his fingers across the leather. Abbie was surprisingly unable to read his reaction, and she started to wonder if maybe he didn’t like it so she began trying to feel the silence with something.

“I know you said you were going to pick one up, it’s just, I saw it, and it was one of a kind, and I didn’t want you to miss out so I just grabbed it, is it…”

“—Perfect.” Ichabod’s eye’s fixed upon the rustic cracked leather. He needed a bag such as this for the upcoming school semester, but had been putting off purchasing one until closer to the start date.

“Abbie.” He said eyes sparkling. “I love it, it is precisely what I would have chosen, and I will treasure it always.” Ichabod pulled the small card sticking out of the front panel, and read it out loud. “ _Teachers effect eternity; no one can tell where their influence stops –Henry Brooks Adams”._

In the past he would have put up a fuss about her purchasing anything for him that wasn’t positively vital, and sought to repay her immediately. However this particular moment felt different, and he didn’t want to trivialize it with talk of coin. The fact that she was merely passing by a shop, and saw something and thought of him, what’s more thought enough of him to go inside and procure it, brought him an immense amount of happiness. It made him feel like he was special to her. He would cherish the bag, not simply because it suited his tastes perfectly, but because Abbie—his Abbie had given it to him.   He stood, and pulled her into his arms until her cheek met his chest, holding her tightly. He lowered his head inhaling the scent of her hair through his nostrils.

“You are far too good to me.” He pulled back and bent enough to look her in the eyes, keeping his hands about her waist. “This bag as wonderful as it is, is not the only thing that is one of a kind.” Abbie felt her heart speed up a little bit.

“I’m glad you like it.” She admitted softly, relieved that he did.

“I love it. Thank you.” Ichabod said pulling her to his chest once again, rubbing his hand up her back.

Jenny walked up to the two witnesses. “We should get going.” The pair turned to see her standing right next to them.

On the way home Ichabod shared news about the discovery of the book he ultimately hoped would help them to free Katrina.

“From what I have deduced, there is a spell that if performed correctly will allow us to free one soul of our choosing from purgatory. Unfortunately, the book I discovered today does not include instructions for performing the spell itself, it merely points us in the direction of another book wherein the spell is contained. It is entitled _The Book of Realms_ ”

“Crane this is amazing, so we just need to track down that book. We’re getting closer.” Abbie beamed glancing back at Ichabod through the rear view mirror.

“Ichabod smiled “It is precisely what I am hoping.”

“And what about what happens if it’s performed incorrectly?” Jenny questioned.

Ichabod stirred. “Then woe upon us all. This is something that has been practiced before by many ind…I mean Native American cultures, but it should not be entered into lightly.”

“So maybe this is something Seamus can help us with, he’s a Shaman.”   Abbie stated.

"I certainly hope so. Still this particular ritual may be daunting for a lower level Shaman, we must exercise care to find someone who is well versed in the art. My best translation of this passage essentially indicates that the one who performs the ritual must be an excellent mediary between here and the spirit world. They must be as at home there as they are here.”

“Okay. Well I suppose we could start with Seamus and see if he can either help us, or point us in the right direction. You know what, let’s head out to his place now.” Abbie decided.

Ichabod leaned forward from the back seat. “He isn’t there; I called the dealership earlier as soon as I translated the passage. He and his family are away on vacation this week, and they are not due to return for four days’ time.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Crane, I know how anxious you are to free Katrina, but at least we’re getting closer, hang in there.”

“Thank you Lieutenant.” He replied, grateful for her encouraging words.

“So Icky that waitress in the coffee shop sure seemed friendly, she was super cute too.” Jenny stated.

“Yes, she was quite pleasant. In fact, the piece of pie that I had was gifted, completely free of monetary compensation and taxes, I was delighted.”

Jenny smirked at him, “I bet that isn’t the only piece she wanted to give you.”

“Jenny!” Abbie gasped.

“What?” Jenny asked. “C’mon you know as well as I do why she gave him that pie, what else did she give you Crane? Jenny teased.

“Stop it” Abbie warned, but she looked at Crane through the rear view unable to hide her curiosity.   Ichabod sensing that they both thought he was withholding something became a bit defensive.  

“I am not certain what you are implying, but I can assure that she did not give me anything except for a slice of pie.”

“Is that right,” Jenny countered “So, she didn’t give you her phone number or anything?”

“Her telephone number?” Ichabod repeated looking completely confused, before remembering the paper Julianna had given him.

“Oh, are you referring to this scrap of paper she gave me listing the number to the establishment?” Ichabod questioned looking at Jenny incredulously.

“The number to the establishment” Jenny could barely get the words out from laughing so hard.

“Yeah that’s the one, may I see it please?” Ichabod handed Jenny the note. Jenny cleared her throat and wasted no time reading it aloud. “Julianna 555-4318, call anytime, and anytime is underlined.”

“Okay Jenny you’ve made your point, give it back to him. Crane that’s not the number to the coffee shop it’s a cell phone number. Also the shop closes at 9pm, so the number she gave you is her personal number.”

“Oh” Ichabod said still looking confused, and then suddenly he understood completely “Oh.”   He blushed a little from embarrassment.

Abbie smiled back at him, “You’re blushing, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, no biggie. But for future reference, when a woman gives you a number with call anytime written under it, you’re being picked up.” Ichabod pursed his lips, it wasn’t that he hadn’t been pursued by women in his time, he had, but it was just easier for him to gauge their intentions back then. Whereas with Julianna he had no idea of her pursuits.

“It’s actually a good thing this happened before going out tomorrow, so it’ll be easier for you to recognize it,” Abbie continued.

“I merely thought it meant call anytime to place an order.” Ichabod responded.

“No” Abbie said shaking her head, “She meant just what she said, call n-e-time, even when the coffee shop is closed.”

“Especially when the coffee shop is closed.” Jenny chimed in turning around in her seat. “Anytime means even when it’s so late that the only thing open is a pair of legs…...hers!”

Ichabod’s eyes bulged. “Miss Jenny!”

“You know what” Abbie scolded pulling up to the house, and putting the car in park. “You’re vile.”

‘Is that right” Jenny jabbed.

“That’s completely right.” Abbie said getting out of the car, and gathering up her bags.

“Oh I almost forgot the funniest thing, she was convinced you two were a couple. Even after I told her that you were married," she motioned towards Crane, "and you all were just good friends, she didn’t buy it. I wonder why, weirdest thing.” She said sarcastically. Abbie felt her heart stop. Why was Jenny doing this?

“I find that ridiculous, but it is merely human nature. People presume women and men are romantic companions when they see them together.” Ichabod said dismissively.

“I guess. I wonder why she didn’t think you and I were together.” Jenny probed trying to sound innocent.

Abbie grabbed her by the hand, “Come help me try on my dress.” Once they were inside of the house Abbie pulled her into the nearest bedroom, which happened to be Ichabod’s, just off the top of the stairs. As soon as they were securely in the room Abbie laid into Jenny.

“What the fuck are you doing, are you serious right now?”

Am I serious? Am _I_ serious? Jenny chuckled putting her hands on her hips, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Abbie grabbed her arm, “I am beyond serious. We just went through this a few weeks ago, I told you nothing was going to happen. Since when did you become such a tremendous bitch?” she yelled.

Jenny pulled her arm out of Abbie’s grasp. “I don’t know, probably around the same time you decided to become a side-chick.”   As soon as she heard the words leave her mouth she wished she had swallowed them instead.

Abbie stepped forward her eyes having lost all signs of reason, “Say it again, and I’ll fire on you.”

“I don’t want to fight with you Abbie, I just..”

“—Wait a minute who said anything about a fight, I was planning on beating your ass like the last time I had to Beat. That. Ass!” Jenny looked at her older sister and knew her chances of winning a physical confrontation were slim to none. When they were younger Abbie had taken boxing lessons and her power and precision were literally staggering. On top of that she was lightening quick, and Jenny had no desire to tussle with her at the moment. Gunplay was her arena, her feel for the steel was unmatched, but what was she going to do, shoot her. She looked into Abbie’s eyes and could tell she was thoroughly heated, her energy was electric and anxious, and she knew at any moment it could spark. What was more worrisome was that Abbie wholly ignored the three feet rule (the unspoken rule of keeping at least three feet of space between you and anyone you’re having an argument with) and stood just inches from her face.

“Just answer me one question. Would you have fed Crane that pie if his wife were present?”

Jenny watched as the anger in Abbie’s face was replaced by a look of confusion, and then realization. “What are you…Oh my God, I did, didn’t I?” Abbie shook her head and found a seat on the bed. “I mean…I did. Wow.” She said resting her hands on her knees. “I am a horrible, horrible person, who does that?”

It was then that Jenny realized her sister had no idea that she’d even done it, and her expression softened.   “Bells, whoa you didn’t even realize?”

“No….I mean yes….look I don’t know.” She felt as if a thousand pounds rested upon her shoulders. Jenny, sensing her aggravation took a seat beside her, as she rested her forehead in her hands. She knew her sister, and because of that she already knew the answer to her next question, but she decided to ask it anyway. Resting her hand upon Abbie’s shoulder she chose her words carefully.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Abbie brought her head up from her hands. “I don’t want to be, I pray every night that these feelings will…go away, that I can feel like myself again, and every morning I wake up with the same horrible ache. At this point, I don’t know what to do, I already try so hard to guard against these feelings, but nothing is working, it’s like it’s out of my control.   And I hate that feeling, that loss of control.   I didn’t even notice that I fed him the pie until you brought it up.” Abbie could remember not wanting to give Ichabod the fork because she was afraid that he would eat the remaining pie in two bites, but the actual act of feeding him the pie seemed normal, natural even. She then realized that she no longer thought of Ichabod as belonging to another, he was hers, and he wasn’t. She fed him, took care of him, nursed him when he was ill, and tended his wounds when he was hurt. She removed the book from his hands, and shook him awake when he fell asleep on the couch. She listened to him talk about his dreams, and calmed after his nightmares. He was hers, and he was not. “Listen I know that he isn’t mine, but when I’m with him…”

“—When you’re with him it feels like he is.” Jenny said.   Abbie nodded her head.

“Not even necessarily in a romantic or sexual way, I mean there’s an attraction, but aside from that, there’s this…bond. I can’t really put it into words but that tie is what sparks these feelings of ownership, these feelings that I have a right to be a certain way with him. If that makes any sense, at all. Ultimately, I feel like there isn’t anyone, and I mean _anyone_ who knows and understands him the way that I do.” Abbie explained.

“Go ahead and say it, sounds like some shit a side chick would say.”   Abbie laughed sadly shaking her head.

“Poor word choice, I was just trying to get your attention, because I don’t want to see you get hurt. You’re a lot of things, but a side chick isn’t one of them, I’m sorry.” Jenny said wrapping her arm around her.

“Well that’s good to know.” Abbie said leaning into her sister’s contact.” “But you’re still a bitch.”

“I know.” Jenny laughed. Look maybe I’m wrong. I mean who knows if Katrina will ever get out of purgatory, hell you guys are both witnesses right, maybe you’re meant to be or something.”

Abbie pursed her lips and furrowed her brows. She wanted Katrina to get out of purgatory. Ichabod needed to be able to save her from there, if he couldn’t, she wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself. Besides that, the fact that they were witnesses is exactly what made her feel that they didn’t belong together. What if a there were a time when one of them had to make a choice between saving the world, or the other? Even now that decision was difficult, they fought blindly for each other. She knew that they would ultimately make the right choice, but what if there was a hesitation that allowed evil to gain the upper hand? She had heard it said that he who hesitates is lost. They had one job, and one job alone, and that was to fight and struggle to stave off the end of days.

“I don’t know, I just want to feel like me again, and I haven’t in a very long time.” Abbie sat explaining to her sister how she had dreamed of Crane since she was a young girl. She told her how she’d held on to those dreams as if they were some type of omen, but in reality they seemed more a fantasy. The duo eventual lay their heads upon the pillows, and gabbed until their tongues grew tired. They talked about life and demons, death and forgiveness, and love and war. And then they slept. A while later Jenny woke to a soft knock upon the door. She knew it was Ichabod and let him know he was all clear to enter. Ichabod turned up the dimmers to find the younger sister curled around the older one.

“I’m sorry Icky, we kind of took over you bed.” Jenny said yawning. “Just a minute we’ll clear out of here.” She said motioning to wake Abbie.

“That is not necessary, Miss Jenny. I was simply checking to make certain all was well, and that the two of you had not killed one another, as I feared might well happen earlier. I heard elevated voices.” He said quietly.

“Did you hear what we were talking about?”

“No.”

Jenny smiled sitting up crossed legged. “Yeah, the battle of the titans was happily averted.” She whispered before looking over at Abbie and adding, “We didn’t come to blows, this time.”

“This time?” Ichabod asked lifting an eyebrow. “My previous sentiment was expressed in jest, I find it difficult to believe that your sister would ever strike you, nor you her.” He added resting against his dresser.

“Yeah.” Jenny said sitting up a little. “We’ve only physically fought once, what seems like a thousand years ago now. When we were little, Abbie got this Barbie doll she always wanted. It was a Jewel Hair Mermaid Barbie. She had the longest, prettiest, hair, and this detachable fin, and I thought Abbie loved her more than anything…even me. So one day I acted like I was trying to remove the fin, and I broke it. And I swear she knew, and I mean almost immediately. I have never told a living soul that I did it on purpose, but somehow she always knew. We got into a huge fight that culminated in the two of us coming to blows, only I didn’t get any blows in. But even as hard as she hit me, it didn’t hurt as much as it did when I thought she loved that stupid doll more than me.”

“I assure you Miss Jenny, your sister does not love anything more than she loves you, heed my words.”

“You think so?”

“I have it on high authority.” He confirmed.

Jenny smiled. “I wonder if I could find that Barbie now, kind of like a peace offering. She’s been under a lot of stress lately, I want to do something nice for her.” Even in the dimmed light Jenny could see the concern sweep across Ichabod’s face.

“May I ask what sort of additional stress she has been under?”

“Oh.” Jenny said realizing that she may have said too much. “Just the usual you know, same old same old.”

“Miss Jenny, your sister is my partner, we are bound, if there is something troubling her, or causing her any sort of distress, I should be privy to it.”

“It’s nothing really.” She said trying to diffuse his interest in the matter.

“It must be of some significance to cause her worry. Has it to do with Moloch, the war?

“No, not at all. Look Icky it’s just girl stuff, you know personal relationship stuff, man troubles.”

“I see.” He replied trying to mask his alarm. His eyes darted towards Abbie’s sleeping frame. She was always with him, when could she have had time to have any sort of a relationship with another man. His eidetic memory began piecing together lost hours where perhaps she could have strung together time for a dalliance. When she disappears to go for groceries only to return three hours later. Times when she’s gone to get her hair trimmed and deep conditioned, and stays away half of the afternoon. His mind immediately takes stock of some of the men in town, many of which he’s certain hold desire for her. It could have been any one of them, but for some reason his mind settles upon Detective Morales, possibly because of their prior romance, and the fact that they remain friendly. But it mattered not, he needn’t put a face to the thought at all, it was heartache enough to imagine another’s hands touching her. Hands that did not belong to him, holding and touching everything that did. She was his. He looked after her. He chased her through the house to bandage up her scraps and cuts, even though she tried to run and retreat into isolation whenever she was hurt. He would stand there outside of her bathroom door listening to her affirmations of perfect health, and plead with her until he was able to coax her into opening the door. He made her pancakes on her days off, not just ordinary pancakes, pancakes infused with fresh blueberries, just the way she liked them. When the weather was cold, he warmed the vehicle and started her seat warmer before she came outside. And when she fell asleep on the couch, he carried her to bed, because she was his. But she was not. His body was shaking with fear, and anger so much so he barely realized how tightly he was gripping the edge of his dresser. He wanted nothing more than to rouse her from sleep and demand a full explanation as to her secreted activities. Where she had been slipping away to, precisely what she had been doing, and more specifically whom she had been doing it with.

“Hey earth to Icky. You still here.” The sound of Jenny’s voice brought him back from his thoughts.

“I…I was unaware the Lieutenant was seeing anyone romantically.” He said trying to keep his voice even. Flashes of a figure cast over hers, pleasing her, entered his mind, filling him with unfettered jealousy.

“Oh.” Jenny replied, studying his disposition. She saw the way he looked at her sister, the little things he was always doing for her. Hell the way he watched out for her, just because she was Abbie’s sister. She could tell he was in love with her, but she never mentioned it to Abbie, she was having a hard enough time handling her own feelings for Crane, how would she manage knowing that he felt the same way. She decided to take it easy on him.

“She isn’t seeing anyone, that’s actually the trouble. She needs something more in her life, do you know what I mean?"  Ichabod breathed a sigh of relief thrilled that another man hadn’t captured Abbie’s heart. Still the thought that she might be entertaining such advances was worrisome.

“Is that what she said?” he asked through bated breath. “That she needed more in her life.”

“Well, in so many words. I’m hoping she meets someone nice at Irving’s party.” Jenny stated.

_Over my slain corpse, Ichabod thought._ “Anything is possible.” He said. Abbie started to stir causing him and Jenny to mute their conversation. Jenny waved him goodnight and snuggled back next to her sister. He looked down at Abbie’s sleeping figure, and noticed a slight shiver so he grabbed the blanket from his footboard, and draped it over their bodies. “Sleep well my ladies.” He whispered. After fading the light, and shutting the door Ichabod stood in the hallway with his palm stretched around the back of his neck. He didn’t see this coming. Her needing someone, wanting something more. He’d wondered what this might feel like before, but now that the moment was upon him, he felt much more selfish than he had imagined he would. Abbie doing, saying, being, all of the things that drove him wild with someone else was unacceptable, and yet with any luck they would rescue Katrina within a fortnight. How could he begrudge her a happiness he was unable to offer her? He knew that he would have to get a handle on his emotions before tomorrow night, but as usual where Abbie was concerned, he was uncertain that he could.        


	9. Party in the U.S.A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it. Sorry this took so long, I had trouble focusing on it because the chapters I'm writing now are so much more fun. :-)

The next day Ichabod stood in front of his vanity with an olive bath towel wrapped around his waist. Tiny droplets of water still clung to his body as he pulled the towel from his abdomen and took it through his hair. Abbie had taken the liberty of laying out his outfit for Captain Irving’s birthday celebration. She had a certain knack for pulling ensembles together, and he always appreciated it. Generally he saw to his own attire, but for certain events he thought it best to adhere to her suggestions. There had been a few occasions when he felt he was dressed and ready, only to have her send him back to his room to start again. This would be their first night out in a while, but not their first. Since his arrival in Sleepy Hollow, he and Abbie had frequented a few pubs, but Abbie informed him that this particular venue was more of a dance club. That unsettled him. Even though earlier Jenny had shown him how to do a simple dance called the two step, which essentially entailed stepping from side to side, he still felt a tad anxious about things. It was quite ironic considering that the dances from his era were much more complicated.  Still Abbie had assured him that he would not be required to dance unless he so chose. She seemed most excited about the presence of a jazz club on the second floor of the establishment, as she’d openly hoped to have a chance to sneak away for a few minutes and enjoy some of the music.

After dressing, Ichabod sat out on the couch with a book to keep him occupied while waiting for the ladies. An hour later Jenny sauntered down the steps wearing a, form fitting, dark turquoise dress, which Ichabod immediately judged to be far too short.

“Miss Jenny you look quite lovely.” He said peeking up from his book.

“Thanks Icky,” Jenny smiled. She started towards the kitchen to grab some earrings she’d set aside when she noticed Ichabod staring at her with a strange look on his face.

“What, is there something else you want to say?”

“No, no of course not,” Ichabod stated, returning to his book. What business was it of his how contemporary women chose to dress? His choice to bite his tongue lasted all of ten seconds.

“Do you suspect though that perhaps you might catch a chill, being so……scantily clad?”

“You think _I’m_ scantily clad wait until you see Abbie!” Jenny laughed. Ichabod closed his book, and looked at Jenny with sheer amazement. Surely the Lieutenant’s dress could be no more revealing than hers. At that moment Abbie centered at the top of the stairs, and Ichabod felt as if a gush of wind appeared from nowhere, and ripped through room taking with it all of the oxygen. He wanted to look away, he needed to look away, but as it were his eyes had forwarded his brain their immediate insurrection from his body, and did exactly as they pleased. And she was beyond pleasing. She wore a muted peach, strapless mini dress. The form fitting fabric clung to her hips with the ferocity of an overly spoiled child. Ichabod thought the dress tightened about her curves in the most flattering manner, deeply accentuating the already disparate ratio between her waist and hips. Her hair was styled in loose curls which she gathered to one side and let fall over her front shoulder. She was ravishing. Ichabod managed to close his mouth before rising to his feet. The peaceful expression that typically graced his features when he shared time with Abbie was nowhere to be found. The tension he was feeling tightened his jaws, and for a moment his eyes, fresh from their rebellion, threatened to reveal every secret he’d hidden from her.

“Miss Mills, you are…breathtaking.” He said taking in every inch of her.

Abbie smiled “Thank you.” He noticed that she stood taller, and looked down at the shoes responsible. Her eyes followed his.

“I can’t remember the last time I got wear a pair of heels, it feels good.” She looked back up at him. “You sir, don’t look too bad yourself.”

Ichabod looked down at his jeans, and T-shirt and straightened his jacket. “Oh this, I suppose it is rather well put together, I would offer to put you in contact with the lady who clothes me, but she really is very busy.”

Abbie laughed, and turned to grab her clutch. “Is that right? Well clearly she knows what she’s doing, you should listen to her.”

“I do, at every turn.” He beamed with a little twinkle in his eye.

No matter how he tried, Ichabod’s eyes seemed not to want to fix upon anything except for her, and it struck him all of a sudden that he might not be the only man who would meet with such problems.

“Miss Mills” he called after her.

“Yeah,” she replied, stepping back out of the kitchen.

“Are you to wear a shawl?” He asked.

“Uhh, I hadn’t planned on it, why?” She questioned. Out of the corner of his eye Ichabod could see Jenny’s disapproving glower.

“No particular reason, I merely thought it might get nippy.” He responded.

As soon as they arrived at the club Ichabod discovered that the night was going to be every bit as long as he imagined it would. The trio walked in to the blaring of _J Cole’s She Knows_ and Abbie and Jenny subtly begin nodding their heads to the beat. Ichabod understood that they were beautiful, that they had a certain air about them that attracted people, more decisively members of the opposite sex. But what he was witnessing went far beyond the attention they normally garnered. Eye’s fell upon Abbie and Jenny as if they’d just double handedly burst through church doors in the middle of a wedding ceremony. He felt a small amount of relief when they made it back to the quieter section where their tables were located.

Abbie spent some time reintroducing Jenny to some of her comrades on the force. By now, everyone was used to seeing Ichabod. He had handily won over all of the women in the department, and most of the guys. In fact, the only people that actively disliked him were Morales and his partner Jones, but Ichabod didn’t seem mind, in fact Abbie knew firsthand that the feeling was mutual. It was an understatement to say that the two men detested each other, especially after they nearly came to blows in the living room of her old apartment. Months before while doing some cleaning, Abbie came upon some things of Luke’s that were stored, and long forgotten in the back of her closet. When he came to retrieve them, he used it as an opportunity to get more information on the status of her and Ichabod’s relationship.

“I don’t understand Abbie, so you guys are just friends? He had asked.

“Yes we’re friends, that’s it.” She replied

“Then why is he living here Abs?”

“He isn’t living here.” Abbie could see the disbelief and hurt in Luke’s eyes, so she tried to settle his mind a little. “He stays over sometimes.”

“He stays over _sometimes_ , _sometimes_? I can count on one hand how many times you let me stay over, and you never, not once, slept over at my place. I can’t remember the last time I seen you, and he _wasn’t_ around. Every time I see you, I see him. Every time I call you, I can tell you’re with him. I mean, what the fuck?

“Luke, listen, Crane and I are friends, that’s it, but to be clear, _we_ ,” She motioned back and forth between them, “are not together anymore,” Abbie softened her voice seeing how her words affected Luke, “and I’m sorry, but I don’t owe you any explanations about this.”

“I know you don’t owe me anything, but damn, I guess I just thought after Corbin’s death, when you decided to stay in town….that maybe you and I could…” Luke sighed looking off, before returning his eye’s to her. “C’mon Abbie don’t you remember everything we were to each other, all the fun we had? I know I do, I miss it, I miss you.”

Abbie took an uneasy breath, she didn’t want to do this, to have the updated version of a conversation they had previously had many, many months before. She hated doing it the first time around, but if she was honest with herself, she knew then that they would end up back here. Sitting on the couch with her telling him that there was no hope of rekindling their romance. When they first ended things, she could tell that he didn’t fully understand her reasoning, there was something in his eyes alerting her to the fact that he didn’t quite believe their separation would hold. He thought she’d miss him, that she’d want him back, because when you feel so strongly about something, about someone, it’s hard to imagine that they might not feel the same. But she didn’t.

“I do remember, and I agree we were happy then, but...as I said before, I feel like our relationship has run its course. It was fun, and it was…honest, and sweet, and I’m thankful for the time we shared, and grateful that I can call you a friend. But I don’t have a desire to go back, or try to recapture that time. Luke I’m sorry.” He sat forward on the couch ghosting his forehead with his fingertips, as he released a heavy sigh. He looked at Abbie, and clasped his hands together.

“Why don’t just tell me. Look just once and for all, just tell me the truth, I can take it.” He stated.

Abbie pulled her neck back. “Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about, tell you what?” She asked trying to comprehend his meaning.

“You’re sleeping with him.”

“Wow, okay…so here are your things.” Abbie stood up from the couch and pointing to the small box on the table in front of them.

“Nah, nah, nah, just say it. You’re sleeping with him. Tell me.”

“Luke I have already told you, we’re just friends, you need to go.” Luke stood up from the couch facing her, making no attempt to collect his things.

“Abbie just tell me if you’re screwing him, how hard is that,” He pleaded. “Why are you lying?” He added through gritted teeth. She was officially offended, and rapidly approaching being pissed off.

“Take a look around you Luke, where are you?” She asked.

“Where are you?” she repeated raising her voice when he didn’t answer right away.

“Your apartment.”

“Ding, ding, ding. That’s right _my_ apartment.” She pointed to her chest. “Not Abbie and Luke’s apartment, not as in you did _not_ pay for any-fucking-thing in here. I hold myself down, so I am the _only_ person that I have to answer to. So who I choose to fuck, or to not fuck is absolutely none of your business. I told you we’re just friends, that’s the end of it, I don’t have to lie to anyone, about anything, is that clear?” In that moment Luke knew Abbie wasn’t lying, and he realized how ridiculous, and desperate he must have looked questioning her this way, but he couldn’t help it.

“Damn calm down, I get it miss independent, look I’m….I’m sorry.” He said dragging his fingers up the back of his head. “Really I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, I guess I’m just looking at it from a guy’s perspective, and I worry about you.”

“Worry about me?” She inquired.

“Yeah, and I should be. I know you. I know how kind you are, and how you try to help everyone, you hate to see anyone in pain or suffering, and Crane might have all of the women at the precinct snowed, they’re all” he mimics a female’s voice, “Oh Crane is such a gentleman, he’s so sweet la da fuckin’ da”, but I’m not buying it, he wants some ass.”

Abbie’s eyebrows nearly touched her hairline, she wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. “Okay Luke, have a nice night.” She said handing him his box.

“Abbie, Abbie, Abbie.” He spoke rapidly trying to get her attention before being thrown out. Listen to me, you were my girlfriend, you think I can’t tell when another guy is feeling you. He wants. Some ass.” He repeated slowly. “You might not see it yet, and I don’t know what Crane _tells_ you he’s interested in, but that’s it.

“I beg your pardon.” Abbie cringed as soon as she heard his voice, she bit her bottom lip and released it silently mouthing the word “fuck”. She knew immediately that things wouldn’t end well. How she didn’t hear him come in was while they were discussing such a sensitive issue was beyond her. Her heart raced, partially from utter embarrassment, and somewhat from the pressing confrontation.

“Aw man, this fucking guy.” Luke mumbled under his breath sitting the box back on the table. “Listen I’m talking to Abbie, not you, and what the hell are you doing just walking into her place anyway?” Ichabod glared at Morales and tossed his keys on the table.

“Oh he has a key Abbie? Really, a key, but he isn’t living here right?” Luke asked clearly pissed.

“Mr. Morales do you care to step outside where we can discuss this matter as gentlemen?”

“Whoa, wait a minute.” Abbie stepped in front of Ichabod, sensing the urgency of the situation. She placed her had on his shoulder trying to bring his attention to her. “Crane let me handle this.” She was always able to reach him, and he probably would have calmed down, if not for Morales egging him on over her shoulder.

“Am I supposed to be scared?”

“Whether or not you are unnerved is of no consequence to me, what does concern me however, are the disparaging remarks that you are making towards my character, to Miss Mills. I must insist that we have a word, whether you are afraid or not.” Ichabod was fuming, his shoulders heaved up and down, and nostrils flared at the edges.

“No, no one is having a word, or fighting, or whatever is you plan on doing outside.” Abbie said pleading with Ichabod.

“Let’s go, lead the way.” Luke teased.

“That’s it, OUT!” She yelled at Luke. Ichabod started heading towards the door to meet Luke outside, but Abbie stopped him.

“No-n-no, not you. You stay.” She said grabbing his wrist and leading him away from the door.

“You go.” She said handing Luke his box and pushing him towards the door. She took care to take him around the other side of the table so he didn’t have to walk past Ichabod. Abbie closed the door behind Luke and leaned forward resting her head against it. As soon as she turned around and pushed off of it, Ichabod went for the handle. She slid in front of him, and rested her hands on his chest, blocking his path.

“No. Please…just let it go.”

“He has no right, to come here, to insinuate…”

“—I know, and I told him as much. He was angry, and lashing out, he didn’t mean it. I know him, he’ll probably call in a few days completely embarrassed, and apologize.”

“He seeks to restore your previous relationship.” Abbie couldn’t readily tell if he was making a statement or asking a question.

“He does.” Abbie responds honestly.

“And you?” Ichabod questions standing over her. Abbie eyes fall to the floor as she shakes her head from side to side.

She brings her eyes back to his. “I think he just needed to blow off some steam, so he didn’t mean anything by that crap he was saying, it’s no big deal.”

“You believe so, it is my opinion that it is a rather enormous deal. You have been a most faithful friend…I would never…If he wishes to try to pursue your affections, that’s one thing, but to imply that my intentions towards you are anything less than honorable…” Ichabod fists clenched at his side, “To attempt to lower you estimation of me, well that is another matter entirely, and to be frank I have seen better men killed for less.” That was the first time that Abbie realized there were parts of Ichabod still completely unknown to her. The darkness invading his eyes at the moment, born from as place far, far, away. She recalled that was also the first time she understood the lengths he would go to in order to defend his honor, and hers.

As soon as they arrived in their section she saw Luke glaring at them. He and Ichabod took part in their usual stare down. Abbie hoped that they would keep their distance from one another tonight. Just as they were heading to their seats a young man with long dreadlocks came up behind Abbie, and tapped her on the arm “Aye gwal wah gwan ( _Hey girl what’s going on_ )!” He asked in a thick Jamaican accent.

“Hey Marlo, I’m good, whatcha been up to.” Abbie replied, giving him a hug.

“Ahh ya know, this and that.”

“Well I hope it’s not the same this and that, that landed you in hot water the last time.” She cautioned.

“Haaa dis one mon, she have a real streaka fire no.” He commented looking at Ichabod.

“Where are my manners you guys this is Irving’s brother Marlo, Marlo this is my partner Ichabod Crane, and my sister Jenny Mills.” Abbie had mentioned meeting Irving’s brother to Ichabod on a few occasions, but it was on days when they were running separate errands. Marlo shook Ichabod’s hand and exchanged hellos with him.

“I never knew you haffa sister but for sure I see da family resemblance.” he said letting his eyes slowly trail over Jenny. Just then Irving, escorted by a few detectives, came back to the section faking extreme surprise.

“What, oh boy, this is too much. I am _so_ surprised!” He lied putting his hand to his chest. “You guys, you do too much.”

Abbie shook her head at his antics, as he shot her a wink. After Irving went through the formalities with the rest of the force, he joined Abbie, Jenny, Ichabod, and Marlo.

“Wow this is really nice.” Abbie commented taking in the atmosphere. They had reserved seating in the lounge area, containing six or so extended couches, each complete with two oversized chairs on either side of them. The witnesses and company wasted no time flagging down a waitress. The idea of drinking was one they often discussed, but in reality they rarely found the time to do it. Whenever they were up for it there was too much work to be done, and whenever they had time to drink they usually slept instead. Abbie was the first to get the waitress’s attention, she relayed everyone’s order.

“Yeah we need five drafts, and that’s it for now.”

“What” Jenny interrupted, “Make that five drafts; and ten shots of patron to start.” She turned to Abbie, “We’ve earned this.”

“How exactly does one earn alcohol poisoning?” Abbie responded.

The five of them sat drinking and chatting about everything from music and politics, to religion. In other words a lot of things they say you should avoid talking about at a party. Ichabod was seated next to Abbie on the couch, and was actually having a much better time than he thought he would. So rarely they all got to enjoy each other this way, without work, or distraction. He looked around thinking if the forces of darkness sought to perpetrate evil tonight, they would enjoy great success, because their entire party, which included a fair amount of the police force, was three sheets to the wind.   Bits of he and Jenny’s conversation replayed in his mind, and no matter how much alcohol he consumed, he couldn’t help but notice men he saw noticing Abbie.

Already he had kept a fair amount of her would be admirers at bay. He didn’t mean to…well not at first, it was purely incidental. As a gentleman was approaching her, he leaned over and whispered into her ear, but as soon as it happened, the man retreated. That’s what initially gave him the idea, after that he simply couldn’t help himself. He could spot them attempting to make eye contact from afar, then endeavoring to come speak to her. He didn’t want them anywhere near her, so the closer they got, the closer he got. He glared at them with eyes and body language that cautioned them to stay away. Before long he was sure that most who came upon them would judge them to be a couple based upon how closely they were seated to one another.

Every now and again when some foolhardy, determined soul didn’t get the subtle hint, he would wrap his arm around her, and whisper something into her ear. Sure it was meaningless, at times as simple as “would you like another drink”, but he knew how it appeared to the outside world. He did feel ashamed of this deplorable action, but not enough so to stop. The feeling he felt when he believed her heart belonged to another was still too fresh, and far too heartbreaking to risk feeling again so soon. It hurt him, quite instantly, and he would not revisit that sense of helplessness again if he could help it. He knew that he was wrong, but was nonetheless powerless to adjust his behavior. How he hoped with time that he would be able to free his heart from her clutches, or that perhaps she would realize that she didn’t need someone or anything else. All they needed was each-other, their friendship, he felt, was more than enough to sustain them.

A little while later Abbie noticed Ichabod staring curiously into his shot glass. She gently nudged her shoulder into his.

“Crane, is something wrong.”

He looked over at her. “I think I may have gone beyond my limit of alcoholic beverages”

“I think we all have” Abbie laughed. “Do you feel okay?”

“Yes I feel fine, but it seems I cannot decipher one word from this entire song. Perhaps the noise of the atmosphere has damaged my hearing. He said rubbing his ears. Everyone at the table erupted into laughter. The song playing was Lifestyle by Young Thug, and no one else could figure out what he was saying either.

“Tell me what you think you’re hearing and I’ll tell you if it’s what I’m hearing right now.” Abbie said winking at Jenny.

“I can tell that part of it is lifestyle?” Ichabod said.

“That’s the part I know too! You’re not drunk, well you’re drunk, but that’s not the reason you can’t understand the words to this song.” Abbie could barely get the words out without nearly going to tears so Jenny joined in to help “yeah like what the hell? “It sounds like he’s saying nanananana ana nananananana beginning.” The girls giggled until they were breathless clearly evidence that they were both well past their limit.

“Why on earth would anyone make a song like this, it is exceedingly appalling.” Ichabod commented.

“I have to agree with Crane”, Irving piped up, “this is craziness.”

“Oh I like this one!” Jenny said grooving in her seat as _Mapei’s Don’t Wait_ rang out. Marlo had been waiting for an opportunity to ask Jenny to dance, but while he was building up to it, Irving stood and held out his hand. “Care to dance?” Jenny looked at it hesitantly, she had always had an interesting flirtation with Frank but up until now it had remained just that. She really liked him, a lot, so naturally she didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

“Wow are you just going to leave my hand dangling like this? C’mon, it’s my birthday.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” Jenny said taking his hand.  

Ichabod and Abbie shot each other knowing glances watching the pair walk out on the dance floor. For months they had watched the two tap dance around each other, they just shared this almost immediate connection. When Abbie started singing along Ichabod rose to his feet.

“Miss Mills I am afraid I will not be much of a dance partner, but nonetheless I am yours if you will be so kind as to do me the honor.” he said extending his hand. Abbie looked up at him cautiously, feeling the center of her stomach nervously tighten. She couldn’t remember a time when he looked more handsome. He was wearing her favorite jeans, looking as sexy as ever in them. She studied him trying to figure out what seemed a little different about him today. When he leaned in close to take her hand, her senses went into overload and she realized it was his cologne. God why did Jenny help him pick out that cologne. She was never one to be drawn to men because of certain scents or smells, but there was something about it, the way it seeped into, and reacted with his skin, it completely undid her. She wanted to breathe him in until her lungs collapsed. Abbie took his hand and slowly led him to the dance floor. She knew she was breaking one of her rules on limiting physical contact, but the opportunity to see him dancing was way too good to pass up. Besides by her count he owed her a couple of dances. Earlier her eyes had invited a nice looking, tall drink of water to come and check on her, but as soon as he was within six feet Ichabod put his arm around her and whispered into her ear. “I’m having a wonderful evening Lieutenant, are you enjoying yourself?”   At first Abbie thought nothing of it, but he left his arm around her until the gentlemen changed paths. She knew she wasn’t imagining things when that script played out a few more times. She wasn’t upset though, her main priority was to have a good time with her friends.  

Ichabod gazed at some of the people dancing around them and immediately worried he’d bitten off more than he could chew. He couldn’t decide if half of them were dancing or having sex.   He stood in the center of the dance floor straight as an arrow one forearm tucked across the base of his back. Abbie shook her head “remember here like this” she said putting his arms to his side.

“Okay do exactly as I do.” Abbie stepped from side to side to the beat. She placed a hand along his side to help guide him. “You’re right here the whole time, just keep doing that, see it’s not too difficult.” She pulled him close so he could hear her over the music, he bent so his ear was close to her mouth. “And remember, you can just sway back and forth if you prefer, you don’t even have to lift your feet, if you don’t care to.”

“Got it!” he yelled back to her. Abbie started winding to the beat taking care not to actually touch him. He instinctually placed a hand around her waist, as he found his rhythm. Abbie couldn’t believe how comfortable he was in this atmosphere, she was absolutely floored. She thought for sure that he would hate dancing, but as it was, she had never seen him smile so much. And he was pretty good too, he didn’t move much beyond a slow sway, but at least he was on beat. She didn’t know if it was the drinks, his cologne, or his hands touching her but as soon as she realized he could move, that he had rhythm, her mind began to wander. She couldn’t help but wonder if he could move this way standing up, how good he might move lying down.

By the time she came out of her thoughts, they were wrapped in each-other’s arms. She didn’t know exactly when it happened, when their embrace tightened as it did, leaving their bodies pressed so closely together that she doubted even a single nickel could squeeze between them. She was completely unaware of when his palms begin pressing into the sides of her ribcage, or when his long fingers dug into her back, almost lifting and somehow bringing her closer to him. And she had no idea when everyone else in the room faded away, and the only thing she could see was his beautiful sky blue eyes staring down at her. Their smiles had vanished, and they looked at each other in a way that could only lead to trouble. The music stopped. Ichabod held onto Abbie a few seconds after the song ended, not wanting to forfeit the comfort of her warmth.

Once he released her he thought for certain he’d seen something akin to confusion, sadness, and more overwhelmingly a flicker of desire in her eyes. It was fleeting, and extraordinarily discreet, but knowing her as he did, he was certain, it was there. His entire body vibrated as it struck him that she might hold a special affection for him too. That’s when it happened, she looked at his lips and nearly contemporaneously moistened hers with her tongue. His heart stilled. She wanted him. His lips parted under the realization, and he suddenly found it impossible to control his breathing. Abbie quickly realized that in her off-kilter condition, she was revealing too much of herself, her thoughts, her feelings, were written all over her face. She took a step back from Ichabod, and summoned all of her strength until she was able to display her poker face again. The one she’d used a thousand times questioning suspects, or interviewing witnesses to keep from accidentally revealing any classified information through her facial expressions. The one that says I have it all together, and I am in complete control. The one that more and more she found herself using to convince everyone that she wasn’t in love with someone else’s husband.  

“You did great for your first time Crane, I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised.” Abbie said trying to sound normal, like nothing had happened between them just then, like they hadn’t just spent the last two minutes slow dancing to semi-fast song.

“Yes well, Miss Jenny…practiced with me earlier.” He said slowly, his eyes failing to suppress the myriad of thoughts circulating inside of his head. Abbie looked down and noticed his fingers bending and unbending along his side. He knew. She wasn’t sure if it was something in her voice, or her eye’s that gave her away, but she’d truly fucked things up this time. He was smarter than most people. Aside from his eidetic memory, he had an attention to detail that allowed him to take notice of what others overlooked. All these months of hard work, of hiding her emotions in tiny little spaces in order to keep him from discovering them was undone. She had to get away from him. She was busy plotting her exit when she felt a hand wrap around her arm from behind.

“Hey Abs, did you save me a dance?” She turned to find Luke, smiling at her like he was dying of thirst and she was a liter of water. She glanced back at Ichabod and then just as quickly took Luke’s hand, leading him a few feet across the dance floor. She hated what she was about to do to Luke, the last thing she wanted to do was give him false hope, but she had to find a way to undo the damage that had been done. So when he pulled her close, she pulled him closer. When his hands fell a little too low on her hips, she let them, and when she wound her hips against him, she held nothing back. She turned her back to Luke winding her frame towards the floor, while gripping the outside of his thighs. When she felt she’d gone low enough, she reversed her roll, and started snaking her way back up. She could see Ichabod taking in the view out of the corner of her eyes, and silently hoped that this would be enough to erase any seeds her actions had foolishly planted. Approximately sixty five seconds into Abbie’s dance with Luke, Ichabod decided that he had seen enough. Still he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Abbie had been drinking. What if in her inebriated state Morales sought to take advantage of her, what if he kissed her, and worst of all what if they reconciled. He had to put a stop to it. He was halfway to them before it registered that he had even taken a step. He could have been patient, waited for the song to end to bend her ear, but quite honestly it twisted his insides to see her touching another man that way, especially Detective Morales. Within moments they were directly in front of him, he reached out his hand to grasp Abbie’s shoulder but to his surprise it was intercepted by Jenny.

“Come on Icky, you ready to show me your moves.”

His eyes skated to Abbie. “But..”

“No buts man, come on.” She said pulling him to a different area on the dance floor. Ichabod’s mind was racing a million miles a minute. When he and Abbie had danced, he thought for sure he’d seen something akin to desire present in her eyes. But after watching her dance with Detective Morales, he began to doubt that the longing was specifically for him. Instead he reasoned that it was attached to something in this night, here in this place, she wanted someone, and he was simply there.

“Miss Jenny, I have to get back to your sister, she has consumed a fair amount of alcohol and I believe she…”

A wry expression crept across Jenny’s face. Did he really believe she didn’t notice the way he’d been cock-blocking all night.      

“–Crane she’s fine, Abbie’s a big girl, she doesn’t need a babysitter.” She said bluntly.

Though it looked as though he was preparing for fight or flight something profoundly different entered into his eyes that Jenny had never seen there before. Defeat. She watched as he sucked in a lengthy breath, and finally brought his eyes to hers.

“Very well.” He said quietly. The song was slow so he wrapped his arm around Jenny’s back and took her hand in his.  

As soon as she realized that Ichabod wasn’t watching she ended her dance with Luke. He tried to follow after her, until she let him know that it was just a dance, and her feelings about them reuniting hadn’t changed. She felt terrible, it was the crappiest thing she’d done to someone in a while, but she didn’t know what else to do. She strolled into the jazz bar hoping the relaxing music would help to subdue her muddled thoughts. She was barely there five minutes before Captain Irving came in and joined her.

“I thought I seen you creep up here.” He commented sitting down.

“Hey.” She replied.

“Getting a little break from the twerkfest downstairs.” He joked, garnering a small laugh. “Yeah I saw you with Morales shakin’ it like a salt shaker.” Abbie cringed, briefly burying her head into her arms folded across the table.

“Ugh…God, why,” she sighed bringing her hand to her forehead, causing Irving to chuckle.  

Her eyes widened “Look, I know you’re not talking, you think I didn’t see you out there doing the cabbage patch? Abbie teased. “Are you serious,” she snickered. “Then you reaaaally broke it down, and started doing the reebok.” She laughed. “I’m surprised Jenny didn’t walk off the floor!”

( _laughing_ )“What are you _talking_ about, I was killin’ it out there, killing it.”

“Because it’s your birthday, I’m gonna let you stay in that zone. To killing it.” She said lifting her glass to his. “Just remember to bury it tomorrow Cap’n, and never dig it up again.” She kidded after taking a lengthy drink from her glass.

“Frank,” Abbie said taking a more serious tone.

“Be careful with Jenny, she’s not as tough as she pretends to be.”

“Mills…I would never hurt her.” He pledged.

Abbie raked her teeth over her bottom lip, mulling over his words. “How can you be sure?” She said after a moment.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but is the ink is barely dry on your divorce papers?”

“Look Abbie, I get it. I understand where you’re coming from she’s your sister, you love her. My marriage is over, and honestly, it was long before the divorce papers were even filed.”

Abbie tapped her glass against the table in time with her words. “Just know that she’s the only thing I’ve hallways add” Abbie giggled lightly as she closed her eyes for a moment and attempted to clear her head. “Wait, wait..I mean I’ve always had.” She said placing her hand on his shoulder. “Do you understand that?”

“No do _you_ understand that?” He laughed causing her to lightly slap his shoulder.

“Seriously though, I hear you loud and clear Mills, and I’m not going to hurt her, I care about her.”

On their way back downstairs to rejoin the group Abbie ducked into the restroom, while Irving headed straight to the table. Once he got there he found Jenny and Ichabod huddled around Marlo looking at his phone. Jenny looked up at him beaming.

“We were just talking about you! Oh my gosh, you had the flyest rattail I’ve ever seen,” she smiled. “Why’d you cut it off?” she teased.

“Oh God, bro, you’re killing me, not the braid.” He chuckled.

Ichabod glanced around looking for Abbie. “Have you seen the lieutenant?”

“Yeah, she went to restroom, she should be here shortly.” Frank answered, before turning to Jenny. “Would you like to dance?”

“That depends, are you going to do the cabbage patch again?”

He chuckled. “The cabbage patch, that’s old, I’m about to teach you the tootsie roll.” He said pulling her up from her seat.    

Marlo looked on as Ichabod kept glancing in the vicinity of the restroom. After a moment he asked him how long he and Abbie had been together. Ichabod informed him that it had been over a year since their fates were forged. It wasn’t until he congratulated him that Ichabod realized he had presumed they were more than partners.

“I am sorry for the misunderstanding, the lieutenant and I are merely friends.

“Wait a minute mon, you’ve been mean muggin’ every mon come tree feet to her, me tink for sure she’s yours.” He said in amazement.

“Mean mugging?” Ichabod asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Yah, it’s kinda like...well…ya know how ya look at every mon come near her like you want ta killem, dat’s mean muggin’.” Marlo replied.

For a short moment, the horror of anyone discovering a secret that he held so close to the vest was present in every square inch of Ichabod’s face. If Marlo had taken notice of his actions, it was also possible that others had as well.

“Oh I see” He started. “Miss Mills is my dearest friend, I am certain that you, having made her acquaintance have an understanding of how kind and…virtuous she is. Still I am somewhat concerned that her manner of dress this evening will attract, shall I say, the wrong sort of man.”

“Her frock will attract every sort a mon, I mean even Stevie Wonder’ll have eyes for da gyal.”   Marlo interrupted.

“Therein lies the problem.” Ichabod agreed. “I am simply making it plain that anyone with less than honorable designs upon her shall have me to contend with.” He took a gulp of his drink.

“Right mon, can me ask youa question”

“By all means.” Ichabod acquiesced, turning to face him head on.

“What do you trust be da right sort a mon?” Marlo posed.

“Well he would be….um let’s see.” Ichabod’s mind scrambled, as worry lines appeared in his forehead. He tried desperately to imagine the sort of man that he would be happy to see Abbie with. Someone who unlike him was free to give her his heart for certain, but try as he may, he couldn’t imagine a single one.

Marlo cracked a wide smile. “Yah, me know” he said downing his drink.

“Me gwine adoors for some air, wan come.” Marlo said motioning for Ichabod to follow him.

“Hmmm I’m not sure, what if Miss Mills returns, and there is no one here to receive her.” Ichabod hesitated.

“She’ll be fine, she big big no, just fora short while.”

Ichabod was getting rather tired of everyone telling him how much of a big girl Abbie was. Nevertheless he finished his drink, and decided to join Marlo. It was a splendidly warm and picturesque night, with a nice cool breeze Ichabod found refreshing. The sky was clear and the stars were shining with a soft illumination that made him happy to be standing under them, happy to be alive. Though he had become somewhat desensitized to the noise level in the club, he was happy to have a short break from it. The two men walked through the parking lot until they came to Marlo’s jeep. Marlo unlocked the glove compartment and pulled out a marijuana cigar.

“Aye mon you blaze herb?” He asked lighting it up.

“Hemp, no I do not.” Ichabod responded resting against the vehicle. He recognized the smell as he had witnessed people smoking it in a few smokehouses in his day, but he had never personally smoked any. He was also keenly aware that such activity was outlawed in most parts of modern day America, but that social mores seemed eschewed towards its eventual legalization.

Marlo inhaled “Suit yourself mon, I can respect dat. Well aye, you ungry?” He asked just before reaching into his glove compartment, and pulling a saran wrapped brownie out of a paper bag.

“Fresh baked mon.” The nourishment from the meal Ichabod had consumed earlier had long left him, and he was starting to feel a bit peckish, not to mention that he absolutely loved brownies. Abbie had repeatedly scorned him for devouring them whenever she made a batch.

“Thank you” Ichabod said accepting the brownie, and immediately struggling to open the wrapper.

“Here mon ya only wan eat-a half it”   Marlo said opening the wrapper.     Ichabod was somewhat confused, he could eat another three brownies and still not be full, but he figured beggars could not be choosers.

“So what does your brother think of your partaking in the herb?” Ichabod questioned, taking a bite of his food.

Marlo let out a mouthful of smoke. “Ya know me Jamaica mon, born and grown, Frank was grown here, so he tinks different. I halfa respect dat.   Ya know Frank my real and true braddah, but not by blood. He was my olda braddah’s best friend in college. When my braddah get killed by a bad, bad, mon, Frank hunt heem down to arrest him, but he resist arrest and try fa kill Frank, but Frank killem instead. Ever since me braddah gone, Frank me braddah now, him look affa me ya know.”

“I am most sincerely sorry for the loss of your brother, it is good that you and the Captain have one another to lean on.” Ichabod offered.

Back inside Abbie spotted a handsome gentlemen she’d seen earlier just as she came out of the restroom. “ _Wow! He looks even better up close” she thought._ Abbie diverted her eyes and smoothed her hair pretending like she hadn’t noticed him. But she did. He was tall, as tall as Crane perhaps a bit more and she could easily tell that he was fitted with brawny muscle underneath his sport-coat, but the first thing she truly noticed about him were his dreamy deep chestnut eyes. _“I mean that sun-kissed skin, and low trimmed hair isn’t hurting him, but he definitely has nice eyes. Crane has pretty eye’s, I wonder where he is right now—STOP IT, focus. There is a perfectly good, handsome, unmarried—wait, please tell me he isn’t married..”_ Abbie’s eyes darted towards his ring finger. “ _Yes! Unmarried man directly in front of you, stop thinking about Crane and..oh my he’s smiling at me, and here he comes, smile back, smile back. Ugh not like that who the hell do you think you are, Miss America, calm it down, be cool.”_ Abbie bobbed her head glancing around the room.

“Hello Miss, it’s Abbie isn’t it?” He questioned.

“Excuse me, how do you know my name?” She asked somewhat agitated that he seemed to know her.

He smiled, “Oh I didn’t mean to alarm you, you see that lovely young woman over there in the blue dress” he said pointing at Jenny, “You know, the one with the beautiful eyes eerily similar to yours, she told me.”

“I see, and what else did she tell you Mr.?” Abbie asked.

“Bradford,” he answered extending his hand, “Talum Bradford. My friends call me Tal.”

“Okay, Talum.”

“Oh, it’s like that?” He asked. Abbie smiled.

“Well let’s see, your sister told me that you like swimming and spending quiet time on the beach, but that you don’t get to do it as often as you’d like. She told me that you love going to the movies, romantic comedies are your favorite but again you haven’t seen many movies lately. She also told me that you love listening to jazz, almost as much as you enjoy singing it, but the only place you sing these days is in the shower, and most importantly she told me that you are available.”

Abbie was completely caught off guard, and she didn’t bother trying to pretend like she wasn’t.

“I cannot believe she told you all of that” She said through a forced smile. “Umm did she tell you when I had my tonsils out too?”

Talum smiled down at her “Don’t blame her, I can be pretty persuasive”

“Clearly” Abbie agreed. They stood in a brief silence, “Well it was nice meet—”

“–One second,” he said blocking her path, “You’re stunning. I apologize if that’s too forward but honestly every single time I’ve looked at you tonight, those words have been stuck in my head begging to get out. I would have said something sooner, but I thought you were with that guy you were sitting next to all night. As soon as your sister informed me otherwise, I couldn’t imagine letting this night come to a close without having a chance to speak with you. I would like, to get to know you better, my personal life is…boring, you seem so…not boring. Let me take you somewhere—anywhere.”

“Wow, not boring, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.” Abbie joked.

“You have no idea.” He said in an overly flirtatious manner.

Abbie cocked her head to the side, while furrowing her brow. “Do you have a cellphone Talum.” She asked pulling her phone out of her clutch. He gave her his number, and she dialed it.

“I’m busy. A lot. But give me a call next week and _maybe_ we can get together.”

“I’ll do just that” He pledged.

“Okay” Abbie smiled closed lipped “It was nice meeting you.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” he waved as she started walking away.

Abbie snuck up behind Jenny and lightly put her hands over her eyes “Guess who?”

“Hey! So I saw you talking to tall, dark, and sexy as hell, how’d it go?” Jenny gushed.

“He seems nice, but every guy seems nice when you first meet them.” Abbie said skeptically.

“By the way, you wanna let me know why you told him so much about me? You told him everything! Like Lance Armstrong talking to Oprah everything, what the hell.” She complained.

“Umm I told him that stuff because he was nice, and he looked like the birth child of Trey Songz and Willie Monfret, and because I wanted him to have a fighting chance.” Jenny answered, trying to plead her case.

Abbie rolled her eyes, and took a sip of Jenny’s drink, immediately making a face because of its strength.

Jenny looked around to see if anyone was in earshot. “Look you said you didn’t want to be hung up on Icky anymore, I thought maybe he could help you with that.”

“Pfff, speaking of which, I actually haven’t seen him in a bit, have you?” Jenny shook her head. as Abbie began scouring the room.  

“Well come on we better find him.” After about two minutes of searching they bumped into Morales who was all too happy to inform them where Ichabod was.

“He’s right over there at that table, with the dreaded dude, and all those girls.” He said almost tauntingly.

“Okay thanks,” _Wait what_? She thought as her brain actually processed what he’d just said.

“Excuse us, thanks for helping us find him.” Abbie started towards the table but as she approached it looked like Ichabod was having a good time, so she decided against disturbing him. She didn’t know what he was saying, but whatever it was had the full attention of most of the girls at the table. Abbie felt a bit nauseated watching them stare at him with their fuck me faces.

“Wow what do you think he’s telling them?” Abbie asked Jenny as they sat at the bar.

“I have no idea, but whatever it is they are all about it.” Marlo motioned to Ichabod alerting him to the presence of Abbie and Jenny watching, causing him to rise from his seat and excuse himself.

“Lieutenant, Miss Jenny” I’ve missed you both. I’ve not seen the two of you in…. _ages_.”   He said with the utmost sincerity.

Abbie smiled “What are you talking about Crane I was just with you like an hour ago.”

“What have you guys been up to?” Abbie asked looking towards the table of ladies.

“Nothing in particular, merely chatting with those nice young ladies. One of them performed the most remarkable task just now, she was able to tie a cherry stem using nothing but her tongue.”

“Really?” Abbie said raising her eyebrows, and rolling her eyes with Jenny.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to catch up with Frank.” Jenny said giving her sister’s shoulder a squeeze.

“So tell me more about this cherry stem.” Abbie said directing her attention back to Ichabod.

“Yes, it was very interesting, perhaps I can coax her into demonstrating it again for you.”

“That’s not necessary,” She smiled softly. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“I am.” Honestly he was having an even better time before he saw her talking to one of the gentlemen who tried to make his way to her earlier. Out of nowhere he starts laughing.

Abbie gave him a curious look “Did I say something to amuse you?”

“No, I simply….feel ...happy.” He admitted stepping close to her.

“Of course you do, it’s the tequila.” Abbie said

“I have had stronger drink many times before, I feel it is something more.   I’m not sure I can accurately describe it, everything just looks and feels so…well for instance I believe I can actually hear the beating of my own heart—clearly. Also I can hear my thoughts before they are thoughts, and I can feel every single cell in my body, does that make sense.”

“No, not at all, even with the amount you’ve had to drink. Abbie said realizing that Ichabod’s eyes were hanging lower than usual. She cupped his face with her hand

“Let me look at you.” Just as she suspected his eyes were red, her mouth fell open and she shook her head in disbelief.

“Miss Mills” he said with his jaws still between her hands. “I know it sounds impossible, but…I can see…sounds. Just now when you spoke, I saw every word.”

“No.” She cringed shaking her head.

“I can, you must believe me.” He joined his hands to hers still resting upon his face. “Your skin feels like what I imagine the clouds to be. You’re so soft” he whispered, staring at her hands as if they were the first pair of hands he’d ever laid eyes on.

“You’re stoned, oh my God. Listen to me, did you leave your drink tonight, or did you smoke something?” Abbie asked trying to gain any insight she could.

“No. I was with Marlo earlier when he partook of the herb, but I did not, as I told him--”

“What do you mean he–never mind I know exactly what you mean.”

“He gave me the most delicious brownie, but I must admit, I am suddenly incredibly famished again. I feel as though I’ve not eaten in a week, can we stop by the McDonalds on the way home. I would like to procure a twenty piece order of their chicken mcnuggets, and an order of their chocolate chip cookies.”

“I am going, to kill him.” Abbie took Ichabod by the hand, and marched over to where Marlo was seated.

“Up now, outside!”   Marlo looked at Ichabod with a please tell me you didn’t tell her anything face. Ichabod simply shrugged his shoulders.   The three of them walked outdoors, and Abbie wasted no time laying into Marlo.

“You’re still on the same shit, after everything that man has done for you.”

“Abbie please ease up, I toll ya I’ma changed mon. He say fa me not ta _sell_ trees no more, me don’t, now me only blaze.” Marlo reasoned.

“I’m sorry did you just admit to an officer of the law that you smoke an illegal substance.” She questioned eyes bulged. “Where is it?” she asked patting him down.

“Me don’t haf anyting” he pleaded.

She looked at Ichabod who was occupying himself by balancing on a curb while humming a tune. He kept humming, and pointed in the direction of the parking lot.

“Let’s go” she ordered pulling Marlo along. When they arrived at the car she forced him to open the glove compartment and took his stash. Unfortunately she was so busy lecturing Marlo she didn’t notice Crane started eating the other half of the brownie.

“No!” she shouted. “Spit it out!”

Ichabod looked at her dumbfounded; if she had any idea how hungry he was she would have never made such a ridiculous request.

“It’s drugs, spit it out.” She said slowly. Ichabod opened his mouth and pushed the rest of the brownie off of his tongue.

It was then that Abbie saw some recognition in his eyes as to what had occurred. “I’ve been drugged? By a delectable dessert?”    

Abbie looked at him in disbelief. “Of course you’ve been drugged, c’mon Crane, do you really believe you can see sounds?” She walked over to him and put a hand on his fore-head, he bent to her touch.

“You feel okay?” Ichabod nodded his affirmation.

“Remarkably, I feel wonderful.” He replied.

After emptying Marlo’s stash into the garbage can, Abbie headed back inside to round up Jenny. The gentlemen followed just behind her.

“Marlo, I do not understand. Why have you given me a tainted dessert. Have I done something to offend you?”

“Ichabod mon, I mean no harm ya know. I see how ya feel about da woman. Da herb push down da inhibitions mon, so you saya whatya feel to her.”

“To whom?” Ichabod asked, but as soon as the words escaped his mouth, he understood perfectly. “You are referring to Miss Mills. “I understand what you were trying to do, but as it is, I am bound in matrimony with another, and Miss Mills… _would never have me, he thought…_ suffice it to say that she and I are fated to remain friends.” As happy as Ichabod felt moments before, he felt ten times as sad when he contemplated that truth.   Marlo looked at him unfazed.

“No big big, me haffa uncle him got tree wives, trust and believe mon.” The two gentlemen laughed at the thought as they re-entered the club. Just as they came in, the Dj was making an announcement over the loud speaker.

“Alright everyone this is the last jam of the evening, so hurry up and find that special somebody.” Abbie saw Jenny and Irving in the distance coming together for the last dance, she decided not to interrupt them. _Melanie Fiona’s 4am_ filled the air _,_ as pairs begin blanketing the dance floor. Morales, finished his drink looking for the courage to once again proposition Abbie. Earlier she’d told him that their dance was nothing other than that, but he couldn’t help but feel there was more to it. Especially after she seen _Dickabod_ flirting with those girls, he thought, _Hell I’m in there._

“Hey Abs.” He said, smiling.

“Luke” she said nodding in his direction.

“I was just wondering if…” Luke stopped midsentence as Crane came up behind Abbie, and interlocked their fingers.

“Lieutenant, I believe you promised me another dance,” He said pretending not to notice that anyone else was standing there. Not waiting for her reply he led her to the dance floor as Morales looked on, seething. He placed his hands around waist and pulled her close to him. They moved slowly together gazing into one another’s eyes until everyone and everything else disappeared. Abbie was thankful that Crane had saved her from yet another awkward conversation with Luke, but she still couldn’t help but feel that she was jumping from the frying pan into the fire. She had no business stepping back into his arms, this is precisely what had caused so much trouble in the first place. But damn did he feel good. Last time it was his eyes that had ruined everything. They were literally disarmingly beautiful as they made her let her guard down, they made her forget that he that wasn’t hers. This time she would make an effort not to look at them. So instead, she dropped her head and rested it on his chest, she felt his hands ease further up her back, and hold her even closer to him. Abbie wanted to stay in his arms forever, but she knew all too well that it wasn’t a possibility.

She didn’t want this, to be reminded how perfect, and blissful everything felt when his arms encircled her. To feel his fingertips on her shoulders, and heart beating against her ear, because it wasn’t real. It was comforting, but it couldn’t last. She pulled back and turned her back to him continuing to move in step. She moved forward attempting to create more space between them, but surprisingly Ichabod pulled her back to him, snaking his hand around her waist, and resting it across her belly. _And there goes that,_ she thought as her stomach did somersaults. She stood there silently unraveling until she stopped moving altogether. How could she be expected to find the beat, when the world was spinning uncontrollably around her? He was the only thing that steadied her, so she lay her head back against his chest, and quietly prayed for the strength to walk off the floor. It never came. She surrendered to the feel of his strong arms encasing her body. He loosely wrapped his other arm around her waist crossing his wrist. Abbie stayed motionless resting her frame against his allowing him to move their bodies from side to side.

Ichabod was certain he could actually feel his heart breaking, he wondered if she felt it too. He had never felt more complete than he did at that very moment holding Abbie in his arms, and he knew he should have released her, but he couldn’t. He was certain at that moment that he was quite helplessly in love with Miss Mills. He stopped moving, closed his eyes and rested his head against the top of hers. He then brought the side of his mouth to her temple allowing his lips to brush over it. He dropped his head against her so his mouth hung over her ear, and attempted to gather his breath.

“Abbie.” His voice was low and husky as he whispered. He knew that she heard him but she didn’t reply. They stood that way.

When the lights came on, and she turned to face him. She was dazzling, even with the touch of sorrow he saw hidden behind her eyes.

“That’s our cue to go.” She said quietly. Ichabod waited for her in the parking lot as she kissed and waved her goodbyes. After a moment she came over but she and Jenny seemed to want to speak in private so he and Irving decided to wait for them inside the cab.

“Jenny, I need a favor. She pulled her a few paces away from the open car door. “Were you going home tonight or..,”

“Uh, I really hadn’t thought about it, why what’s up?” Jenny answered.

“I was thinking of going home with”

“—Tall, dark, and sexy!?

“Talum. Bradford. Here’s his number, and this is his address,” she said typing into Jenny’s phone. “But I’ll send you a confirmation text when I get there.”

“Wow, somebody finally decided to let her little freak out. On the first night too, sheesh you don’t do it often, but when you do it, you do it big. I’ll go home, but don’t you think your being a little paranoid, Icky’s an adult it’s not like he’s going to burn down the house.”

“No, you have to keep a close eye on him, he’s not himself.”

“Wait, why?” She said glancing over at Crane.

“Look at him, do you notice anything different?” Abbie asked.

“Well now that you mention it, he does look a little…faded.” Jenny thought it was a little weird because she knew that Crane had a seriously high alcohol tolerance.

A little faded, Abbie said. “Long story short, he ate a weed brownie, and he’s blown out of his fucking misery right now.” Jenny immediately erupts into laughter.

“How the hell did that happen?”

“It’s not funny Jenny, how did I know you would get a kick out of this.” Abbie didn’t tell Jenny about her and Ichabod’s last dance. The way he touched her, like it was okay. How soft his lips felt brushing against the side of her head, and the unmistakable pitch of his voice as he called her name, not Miss Mills, not Lieutenant, Abbie. He wasn’t himself. And she wasn’t sure that in her mental and physical state, she could be around this less restrained version of him, without somehow compromising the real him that would ultimately show up tomorrow. So when she bumped into Talum in the parking lot, she asked him if he would like some not so boring company.

“Okay,” Jenny said trying to stifle her giggles. “Don’t worry I’ll keep an eye on him. You have fun, and don’t forget to text me to confirm his address.” Abbie gave Jenny a quick hug, and started heading towards Talum’s car. She turned back around almost immediately.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Have the cabbie stop by McDonald’s, he has the munchies.

Jenny hopped into the cab still laughing about Ichabod’s illegal drug use. “Okay boys, let’s get moving.”

“Miss Jenny, we cannot leave without your sister.”

“Oh yeah, something came up, she’ll be home tomorrow.” Jenny said trying to sound casual.

“I do not understand.” Ichabod stated.

“She’s going home with a friend tonight, she’ll be home in the morning, or the late afternoon if things go well.”

“SSsss.” Irving sucked a heavy breath through his teeth because he knew that one had to sting. He’d spent enough time working with the witnesses to see what was brimming between them.

Jenny could see the distress pushing through Ichabod’s eyes, when he came to understand her full meaning. He sat back, and stared off out of the window.

Talum opened the car door for Abbie, and helped her inside. He couldn’t believe his luck when she asked him if wanted some company this evening. He never figured her as the type of woman who would go home with someone on the first night, and truthfully, he still didn’t, but he wasn’t about to argue with her. Abbie rested her head back against the seat, trying to settle her nerves, as Talum walked around to the driver side. It was a beautiful night, she rolled the window down, and allowed the warm air to pass through, hoping it would help to suppress the quivering in her stomach. Talum was a nice, good looking guy, he drove a nice car, so he was probably well employed. Abbie was sure there were a bevy of women who would love to date him, but she wasn’t one of them. She needed someone she could hold onto, and kiss, and touch, and more importantly pretend that they were Ichabod Crane, as she did it. She wasn’t proud of herself, for using someone this way, but at least it was someone who most likely wouldn’t be hurt by it. Talum Bradford might be the only thing saving her from creeping across the hallway in a drunken stupor, and slipping into Ichabod’s bed. Because, even though she knew he was out of sorts, when he whispered her name into her ear on that dance floor, her mouth said nothing, but her body said _yes_. Yes to everything, and anything he wanted. Her body, her mind, heart, and spirit. He. Could get it. All. Abbie was broken from her thoughts by the sounding of Talum’s car horn. She looked ahead to see figure standing in the road in front of the car.

“What the hell.” He said coming to a stop. “Hey isn’t that..” Abbie knew right away it was Ichabod standing there with his hand cast out in front of him, like he actually had some magical ability to halt a nearly two ton vehicle. He immediately walked around to the passenger side door. After tugging at the handle and realizing it was locked, he reached over, and opened the door using the inside handle.

“Lieutenant, please exit the motor vehicle.”

A chill ran through her body. She didn’t know what think. She wondered if something had happened, or if there was some kind of crisis she needed to attend to.  She also worried that perhaps she had missed some sort of warning sign, and put herself danger. All she knew was that by the tone of his voice, Ichabod meant for her to do exactly as he said.

“Is there some sort of prob…”

Ichabod leaned forward and held up a single finger silencing Talum.

“What?! Man this is my car.” Talum scoffed.

“Abbie,” he spoke even more sternly than the first time, “Get out. Of the vehicle!”

 

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some stereotypical things I'd written into this chapter bothered me. I know that having dreads or a Jamaican accent have nothing to do with cannabis use, it is not my desire, nor intention to perpetuate this belief. Apologies to anyone who is offended. 
> 
> Also I listen to a wide variety of music, I actually became semi-addicted to the song they ragged on.


	10. Something to Talk About

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks you all for reading, I hope you enjoy the chapter. ;-) I've been getting busy, but I can manage to finish at least a chapter a week. Hopefully things will slow down, and I can update a little sooner. I really do enjoy getting the story out of me. Please forgive any grammatical errors, I usually find them after I've posted,

 

Abbie looked up at Ichabod completely baffled by the look of consternation strewn across his face. A million questions ran through her mind. Had something happened? Was he in danger? Was she in danger? But at that moment she realized she didn’t need all of the answers, in fact she didn’t need any of them. He told her to get out of the car, and that was enough. He had her trust. She turned to Talum and apologized in as heartfelt of a manner as she could before taking Crane’s hand and exiting the vehicle. When Talum leaned over the passenger seat, and asked her if she was sure, she assured him that she was.

“He’s my partner, I have to go.” She said closing the car door, just the driver of the vehicle behind them began laying on their horn. Ichabod held her by the arm as she stepped over the curb and through the grass, she stops, releasing from him just after her heels clack against the pavement. Her eyes are questioning. He gazes at her, trying to mask the sense of indignation pulling away at his insides. He knows he has no right to feel this way, but he does, and it’s only furthered by how breathtaking she looks beneath by the soft glow of the street light. The fact that another man got to share her company, to bear witness to her beauty, and very nearly so much more, infuriated him. He takes her by the elbow, turning to start back down the sidewalk, but she stops him.  

“Crane wait, what’s wrong? Where are we going, and where are Jenny and Frank?”

He calms himself a bit before speaking. “Miss Jenny, and Captain Irving were in the taxi cab the last I saw of them, you and I are going home, we can phone for another escort as soon as we are in a more illuminated sector of the block.”

“But wait, why did you pull me out of Talum’s car, I thought there was some sort danger, or an emergency. or something?”

“There was an emergency, and you very well were in danger.” Abbie felt a cold chill rip through her body. She’d had a few drinks, but not so many that she felt she was off of her game. Was there something about Talum that she’d overlooked? Was he not who he claimed to be?

“What do you mean, what are you not telling me?” She asked stilling him from starting down the sidewalk once again.

“Miss Mills, you were in the motor vehicle of a fellow, you have only just met, heading to God knows where, and once you arrived at your destination God only knows what he would have tried to do to you.” Abbie couldn’t believe her ears.

“Hold on, what?” She cupped her hand to her chest, partly due to relief that there wasn’t some huge emergent situation underway, and partially because she couldn’t believe what he was saying. She heard him, but she needed to hear him say it again to make certain she understood him correctly. Ichabod could see that she was growing irritated, and sought to better explain his actions.

“Lieutenant, we all seek…love, but this…this is not the way to find it, you have had a large amount of alcohol this evening, I believe it is fair to say that you are not in complete control of your faculties.”

“—Are you serious, I’m not in control, you’re high right now!” She said pointing at him, Ichabod raised a finger to alert her that he wasn’t finished making his point.  

“First, I _was_ high, or stoned, or whatever you choose to call it, but the news of your predicament was, shall I say, sobering. I feel myself once more, so thank you kindly for that. “Further, the gentleman—or shall I say cad, because only a cad would play upon a woman’s emotions when she is not in complete control of them—nevertheless, that man sought to take advantage of you, to play on your overly relaxed state, and use you to fulfill his own selfish desires.” Abbie’s mouth fell open as she felt anger rising from the pit of her stomach, and spreading outward.  

“Un-believable.” She said shaking her head. She didn’t dare say another word, she was far too upset. She needed some time to cool down, how could she talk to him about this, when at the moment, she could barely stand to look at him. There was overprotective, and then there was Ichabod. After glancing around and determining her exact whereabouts, she texted Jenny to meet her at a location just up the road.   Without uttering a word, Abbie started heading down the street, pissed that she was out there in the dead of night, walking down the sidewalk, in gorgeous, but horribly uncomfortable heels.   She could hear him clamoring after her.

“Lieutenant?” He called, surprised at how quickly her legs carried her down the walkway. He couldn’t believe she had the gall to be angry with him after he saved her from what was sure to be a regrettable situation.

“Lieutenant?” When she failed to answer him, he lamented, “I suppose no good deed goes unpunished.”

His words spun her around. Earlier, she resisted the urge to speak because she was angry and didn’t want to risk saying something that she didn’t mean, but hearing him just then, spouting off behind her, made her realize she no longer gave a shit.

“No good deed?” She laughed bitterly. “No, Good, Deed!” She shouted slowly, suddenly happy that they were on a busy road, and not in a residential area, because someone would surely call the police, and she didn’t need any additional gossip circulating around the station.

“Let’s see like when some guy materializes out of thin air, spouting off about how he’s from a-noth-er cen-tur-y, and everyone think he’s a lunatic, but _you_ , you believe him. So you take him in, you befriend him, you try to teach him _everything_ you know about living in today’s world, which is no small task by itself, but going further, you keep him,” She counts off on her fingers, “clothed, bathed, fed, until he is able to keep himself. You surrender _everything_ to him, with no complaints, no reservations, and the one night that you try to do something for yourself, he ruins it. No good deed like that?”

Ichabod remains quiet, she knows how to wound him, and just that quickly she has. Believing himself a burden to her hurts him in a way he can’t begin to describe. He never wants to hold her back, or make things worse for her, only better. In fact, he’d prayed to God, on more than one occasion, that he can be a blessing to her rather than an encumbrance.

“Wake up Crane, this is not the eighteenth century anymore, and that guy…” She points towards the traffic just before tucking her hair behind her ear, “What you were worried about him doing to me, is exactly what I wanted to do TO HIM.”

Ichabod tilts his head, looking at her skeptically. After a moment he begins softly chuckling.

Abbie’s mouth hangs open briefly. “Oh you don’t believe me?” She asks. “I _was_ going to use him…whisper sweet nothings in his ear, and tell him everything he needed to hear until he gave me what I wanted.” Abbie looked down at her feet before casually shrugging. “Then I was never going to see him again.”

Ichabod starts laughing harder now, only further incensing Abbie. It wasn’t until then that he realized he may have overreacted, and panicked for no cause. In all his worry and eagerness to keep her from this man, he failed to consider one detail; it was Abbie. First, she was trained in combat, armed with a firearm, and as tenuous and intelligent as any man he had ever served with. She would never allow anyone to force her into doing something that she didn’t want to do. Admittedly, he never once considered that she would be the one to initiate such action, and hearing her proclaim as much did nothing to further that belief. There was something in her voice just now that he didn’t quite believe, almost as if she was trying to convince herself, as much as him, that she was capable of having this type of a relationship. Second, he knows her, and listening to her only affirmed, what had he been thinking clearly, he would have remembered, she was private and horribly mistrusting. She lacked the ability to give herself, in that way, to a man who did not possess at least a portion of her heart. She might have believed she could, but he felt that ultimately she would not have gone through with it. Flirting and dancing with men in a crowded club was harmless, safe, but opening her body to someone was far too intimate, and she was much too disciplined at keeping people away to enter into such an undertaking lightly.

“What the hell’s so funny?”

Ichabod gathers himself, and subdues his laughter. “Forgive me Miss Mills, but quite honestly I do not believe that you could nor would _use_ a person in this sort of way.”

“Really?” Abbie takes her phone out and starts going through it.

“What is it that you’re doing?” He asks.

“Looking for Talum’s number.” She replies with her eyes fixed down at her phone. Suddenly everything doesn’t seem so funny, and all Ichabod’s feelings of dread and jealousy return quite instantly. He knows that she will not allow a man to touch her body, unless he has first touched her heart, but he had no desire to see any man with a chance to gain entry to either. She was…beyond. Beyond beautiful, sexy, and charming, beyond good, strong, and caring, and beyond what any man on earth rightfully deserved. A man would be a fool to lose her affection if she chose him, and the thought of her choosing anyone other than him instantly sent him towards despair.

He quickly closes the space between them before she begins to call. “Lieutenant, stop this.” When she doesn’t immediately stop, he takes her phone. She goes to take it back, but he holds it out of her reach.

“Are you serious?” She asked him amazement. “Sexist bullshit, what is it too much to hear that a woman might want to take advantage of a man sexually?” She said, finally snatching her phone from his hands. Abbie looked up at him and saw something glaze over in his eyes, little did she know, the tightness in his face revealed only a smidgen of his ire. “ _Good”_ she thought. _“No reason why I should be feeling this way, because of him butting in, and he’s feeling all peachy keen.”_

“What’s the problem Crane, you seemed full of insight a moment ago.”

“Miss Mills you have made your point.” He said, his tone growing harsh matching hers.

“No, seriously, no matter what time period you come from men will always be men, women will always be women. Clearly I’m not the first woman to do something like this, and I sure as hell won’t be the last. This is nothing new, so I really don’t see what’s so difficult to believe. Are you really trying to say that there were no women during your era who, like me, wanted to enter into a sexual relationship with a man, and wanted _nothing_ more.”

“Indeed there were, they were resoundingly referred to as women of _ill repute_ , or _harlots_ …” Abbie couldn’t help but gasp. She wished immediately that she could have seen it coming, so she could’ve guarded against revealing how much it hurt. But she was surprised, and it did hurt her, in a way that only he could. They fought, but never this way, and the effects of the infraction were all over her face. Coming from him those words gave her more hurt than she felt like carrying, and she wanted to give some of it back. But the lump in her throat warned her that if she tried to speak, she might cry, she was that mad. Before her response would have been instant, she would have slapped him, hard, without even thinking about it. But after all of her training in conflict resolution, she no longer operated in the same manner.   She thought about things before she did them, considered her options, and weighed the consequences and repercussions. She wanted to hit him, hurt him, the way that he hurt her, but what good would it have done. Ichabod stood in front of her trying to remember exactly what he was saying before he saw that look upon her face. Anger he could deal with, but the disappointment present in her eyes was unbearable. His own eye’s pleading as he reached for her when she turned to walk away.

“No, no, no, no Abbie!”

“No.” she quietly managed as she shrugged away from his touch, and resumed walking. He rested his hands on the top of his head, and brought his fingers through his locks. He began walking after her allowing her the space he knew she needed.  Ichabod wanted the moment back. He wished he had delivered his words in a manner in which she could have readily seen that they were not aimed to hurt her.

It wasn’t long before they reached the dry cleaning business that Abbie directed Jenny to meet them at. Abbie could see Jenny and Irving standing outside of the cab looking for them as they approached.

Jenny walks out to meet her. “Bells I’m sorry I”

“—One thing,” Abbie replies never slowing down. “I ask you to do one thing Jenny. Was that your idea of keeping an eye on him? He was in the middle of the road, he could have been killed.” Abbie gets into the cab and slips her heels off. Jenny felt terrible. One moment they were at stop light outside of the club, and the next he was out of the car. She tried getting the cabbie to turn around, but there was no turn off between where they were and the entry ramp for the expressway. She had him take the next exit, and come back, but by the time they returned Abbie had already texted her asking to meet somewhere else.

The four of them piled into the cab and headed towards the Captain’s house. The ride there was completely silent. Abbie stared out of the window, Ichabod stared at her, and Frank and Jenny curiously stared at the both of them. When they got to his house Jenny walked with him to the door.

“Sorry…” She apologized. “About all that, they’re just…ya know.”

“What that? That was nothing.” Irving smiled.

“Ha!” She laughed. “Yeah right, that had to be more intense than getting on an elevator with Solange and Jay-Z.   Irving laughed stepping closer to her, and taking her hand.

“Well I hope you got everything you wanted for your birthday.” Jenny stated. She noticed that Irving’s expression turned serious.

“Almost” he replied, “I had a great time, but there is one other thing I wanted, something I’ve wanted for a while now, something that just over a year ago I wasn’t sure I would ever want again.” He admitted.

“Frank” Jenny started speaking, but her words left her as his hands found her waist. Before she had a chance to realize what was happening her lips were under his, and it felt so good.   His arms locked around her, and she loved the feeling of being in them. He pulled his head back from her.

“Stay, just, just for the night, we don’t have to do anything, we can just talk or sleep…..” He brushed her cheek with his hand.

“I want to wake with you tomorrow, I want these beautiful eyes to be the first thing I see. Please… stay.” Jenny wanted so badly to go into the house with him, and forget about everything for the night, but she couldn’t.

“I want to, I really do” she said softly. “But Abbie, she needs me, we’ve been drinking and she shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

“She won’t be alone, Crane’ll be there with her.”

Jenny swallowed. “That’s kind of the point, she shouldn’t be alone with him, tonight.”

Irving nodding his head. “Well maybe another time then.”

Jenny pursed her lips, “Yeah another time….or.”

“Or?”

“Or you could just come, and stay at our place tonight, I guess if waking up with me is what you really want, it shouldn’t matter where we wake up.” Irving wrapped his hand around hers.

“It’s what I want, are you sure the others won’t mind.” He said tilting his head towards the side of the house where the car was.

“No, of course not, even if they did, it’s my house too, and I say you’re welcome.”

“Okay, well. Just let me grab a couple of things.”   He stated turning toward the door.

Abbie and Ichabod waited patiently in an awkward silence. She kept her eyes fixed outside of the window, but could feel Ichabod’s boring into her. She pulled her forearm away as she felt his fingers curl around it.

“I am so deeply sorry Lieutenant. I did not mean the words I so foolishly uttered, please allow me to explain.” Abbie turned her head to face him, and it killed him to see the hurt still present in her eyes. He wouldn’t forgive himself for this. He needed to tell her. At the time, he truly did believe he was doing her a service by pulling her from that car, he did worry that she was drunk, and that she would be taken advantage of, but there were details which he chose to omit. Primarily, how he couldn’t bear the thought of her being with another man, and how his jealousy was eating him alive. He loved her. It was foolish of him to presume that he could keep something this momentous under wraps for such a great duration. What’s hidden always has a way of revealing itself.

Shockingly Irving and Jenny both returned to the cab.

“Umm is it alright with you guys if he comes to hang out for a while, we’re not really tired so we’re going watch a movie.”  

“I don’t have a problem with it” Abbie grinned, coming out of her thoughts enough to be happy for Jenny.  

“Nor do I.” Ichabod agreed.

“Jenny.” Abbie looked at her younger sister, silently conveying an apology for going off on her, and for charging her with watching Crane on Frank’s birthday to begin with.

One look at her sister’s face and Jenny knew exactly what she meant. “I know, and don’t worry about it.” She said. Abbie also knew that the only reason Irving was staying at their place was because Jenny had refused to stay at his.

“You could’ve.” Abbie said.

“I know, didn’t want to.” Jenny replied. Ichabod had heard them speak to each other this way on many occasions, and found nothing strange about it. Irving on the other hand was a different story.

“Wait a minute, what kind of telekinetic conversation is going on here. Yall’ got the shining or something?” The sisters started laughing.

“Nooo, it’s not funny, because one of you might be saying redrum, and then the other one could be like redrum who, and then you’d answer, redrum Frank, and I wouldn’t even know. So I need you guys to have your conversations out loud.” The girls broke out into laughter, and the tension in the cab was eased a bit. The joke was lost on Ichabod, and Abbie made a mental note to show him the film when she didn’t feel like gauging his eyes out.

Later that night, after her shower, Abbie crept downstairs to the refrigerator. _Bastille_ was blasting through her headphones as she entered the dark kitchen. She left if that way, she didn’t need light, it would only make it that much harder for her to fall into the mind-frame she needed in order to sleep. Her fingers sifted through the freezer in search of her personal sized container of butter pecan ice-cream. When she couldn’t find it she knew immediately Ichabod had eaten it because Jenny wasn’t particularly fond of it. _“I’m a whore but he eats my ice-cream.” She thought. “Wait a minute that doesn’t even make sense.”_ But those thoughts kept coming to her, the fact that the man she loved, even though he didn’t know it, thought of her as a whore, and basically told her as much. She pulled a fruit tray from the frig and sat it on the counter. After pulling herself onto the countertop and crossing her legs, she reached beneath her opening the drawer, and grabbing a fork.

Unbeknownst to Abbie, Ichabod sat behind her at the kitchen table eating her ice-cream watching as she brought a forkful of fruit to her lips. He could see her quite easily, as the dimmers from the hallway slightly illuminated the section of the kitchen where she sat, still the area where he sat was shrouded in darkness. He could see her iPod strapped to her arm, and knew that she couldn’t hear him.

He had stood outside of her door earlier. Too afraid to knock, for some time, but still unable to walk away. When he finally did muster up the courage to knock, it was met only with silence from the other side.

“Please answer me,” He said bringing his hands to the wood. His palms were sweaty as they wrapped around the door knob, but he turned it ever so gently and peeked inside. When he didn’t immediately see her he took a few steps forward. He saw her dress lain across her bed, with a pair of tan lacy panties just beside it, and a few inches away, her brassiere. He took a deep breath, knowing that she was completely naked just a few feet from where he stood, he knew that he shouldn’t have entered her room without permission, but she had ignored his previous attempts to speak with her. He jumped at the sound of her shower starting, and quickly retreated from her room.   That was how he ended up here…watching her. Her lips were wrapped around a strawberry, which she gently sucked before separating half of it from the fork. Ichabod’s mouth opened and before he could stop it a low groan crawled out of it. He stood at once, walking over to her, placing a hand upon her shoulder. Had he been thinking he would have made certain to approach her from the front, that way she could have at least seen him coming. Perhaps then she wouldn’t have been so startled, and she wouldn’t have screamed, and surely she wouldn’t have thrown her hand back smacking him in the face. In record time she’d flipped on the light switch across the room and already wielded a weapon in the form of a broom.

“Crane! What the hell?!” Abbie yelled realizing Ichabod was her assumed attacker. He stood a few feet in front of her bent forward holding a hand over his eye. She turned around at the sound of footsteps trampling down the stairs. Jenny rounded the corner first gun locked and loaded, and Irving followed just behind her.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry, sorry. Crane just crept up behind me out of nowhere, I didn’t even know anyone else was in here, I thought we were breached.” She informed them, still working to calm her nerves. Jenny lowered her weapon, releasing a heavy breath. She looked down at the broom in her sister’s hand.

“We need to hide more guns, what the hell were you gonna do with that.”

“Whatever I had to.” Abbie replied putting it away.

After Jenny and Irving returned to bed, Abbie started putting the fruit tray away. Ichabod walked over to her holding his palms down trying to keep her from leaving the kitchen.    

“What the hell are you doing sitting down here in the dark?” She asked.

“Honestly, I was contemplating what I might do, to get you to speak to me.” He replied.

Abbie’s eyes squinted and shifted to the table. “So you decided upon eating my ice-cream?” She asked trying to blink away her disbelief. She knew he’d eaten it, but to catch him red-handed. Ichabod looks over at the empty container.

“No, I am afraid I did finish your ice-cream, as all of mine was gone, but”

She rolls her eyes at him, reinserts her earbuds, and starts heading back upstairs. She only manages a few steps before she feels his hand grasping her t-shirt.

“Ugh, _please_ let go.” She groans.

“Not until you agree to speak with me.” She hears him say.

“I don’t want to speak with you, I can think of about a million things I’d rather do right now then talk to you.” She contests.

“Abbie, we are bound, and we reside under the same roof, eventually you will have to speak to me.”

“I know that Crane, it’s just…” She closes her eyes from frustration, as he takes her by the shoulders turning her around to face him. He gently pulls her headphones from her ears.

“What could you possibly have to say to me that actually matters Crane? I have tried to be a good friend to you, and I have never once judged you, and you basically called me a whore.”

“And I would never place you in such company.” He said quietly.

“What?” Abbie asked holding her hands out in front of her. “Is that supposed to make sense?”

“That is what I have to say to you, and I pray it somehow matters. It was the other half of the statement that I made earlier. I was merely stating that indeed, there were women who entered into such relationships, and they were called women of ill repute and harlots, and I would never place you in such company…but somewhere along the way I realized that I was wrong.”

Her eyes grew. “Is this supposed to be an apology, because it sounds to me,” she spoke rapidly pointing at her chest, “like you’re just confirming your previous assertion, that I’m a whore?” Ichabod leaned his head to the side in that way he did when he wanted to admonish her.

“Lieutenant.” His eyes crept over her, “Where I was wrong was in giving any credence to the notion that a woman should be called a harlot for satisfying her desires, while men are championed for the exact same action. Initially, I sought to differentiate you from them, but I quickly realized that even though I find you…different, that it was wrong to cast judgment upon women who have actually done what you attempted to do. When I paused from speaking it was not because I was finished speaking entirely, rather I realized what I was saying was fundamentally flawed.

He reached out taking hold of her hand, stepping closer. “You cause me to do that time, and time again.”

“You make me wiser…stronger….better.” Abbie withdrew her hand from his and folded her arms across her chest. Her expression, a mix of hurt, confusion, and a subtle detachment that wasn’t there before. The most difficult thing was knowing that he put it there. She had trusted him with parts of herself that could be injured, things with which she trusted no one, and he’d let her down, and now her guard was up. Whether accidental or purposefully, it mattered not. He hurt her. He wanted to untie her arms, and pull her into his, but he decided to be more careful with her, how he wished he would have been earlier.

“So,” she spoke quietly, you weren’t actually calling me a whore?” Her eyes were a little glossy, but she kept her tears at bay. The quick breath she took after she was done speaking, was the only thing alerting him as to how emotional she was at that moment. Ichabod sighed softly, and slowly brought his hand to her cheek.

“Never.” He breathed, stepping closer to her. “You must know, I would never say something like to you.” He promised.

“I don’t know, you seemed really angry, and I know I said some things, but I would never go that far.”

“Abbie, please.” He spoke slowly, sensing she was talking herself out of believing him, out of trusting him. “Think of what you are saying, I _was_ ….angry, and worried, and…” He took a breath and decided to tell the truth, “quite honestly jealous,” his voice fell to a whisper, “but I would never speak to you in that way.” Abbie let her arms fall to her side.

“Jealous, but why would you be…” Her mind sifted back through the night’s events, she immediately flashed through of all the times he did little things to keep various guys away.  

“So wait a minute, is _that_ why you were scaring all of those guys off?”

He hung his head speaking quietly, “Yes. I knew that you would draw a fair amount of admirers, but I did not want them….” _Say it, tell her, near you because I am desperately in love with you. He thought._ He brought his gaze to hers trying to find the courage to speak his truths.

_I’m all he has, he’s worried about someone taking his place, and stealing me away from him._ Abbie thought. He was quiet, and she had an inkling of what was bothering him, so she spoke up.

“Ichabod,” she stated placing a hand on his arm, “no one and nothing can ever take your place. No matter who or what comes into my life, I will never put them or it in front of you. You’re my best friend, you don’t ever have to worry about someone stealing me away, it will never happen.”

“Hmmph.” He breathed, a certain air of resignation encompassing him. It was funny to him how even when he had the nerve to speak the truth, she didn’t really hear it. He pulled her to him, and began rubbing his hand up in down her back.

“I am so terribly sorry I hurt you, I will take the greatest care to ensure that it shall never happen again.”

Abbie nodded her head against his chest. “I’m sorry for all of that crap I said about no good deed.” She mumbled into his shirt. “I want you here, promise me you’ll never forget that.” She said tightening her arms around his waist.

“Oh my God.” She quickly pushed back from him. “I hit you.” She said, her face cracking. “Crane I am so, so sorry. I thought you were an intruder, we should get something on that.” She stated turning towards the refrigerator.

He stilled her movement. “It is not necessary.” He informed her. She reached her hand up and lightly drug her fingers across the place she’d struck him earlier.

“Does it hurt?” She asked softly.

“No.” He replied. She looks up, innocently batting her lashes.

“A little.” He admits.   She raises up on her tippy toes, pulling him forward and placing a kiss just under his eye. His hands wrapped around his waist and he lost his breath a little as her soft fleshy lips pressed into his skin.

Abbie returned to her feet, smiling up at him, her eyes twinkling as she remembered the softness of his beard against her chin.

“Actually did I say a little, it hurts a lot.” He recounted, a devious grin spreading across his face. She laughed gently, pushing him away from her. He’s amused and clearly delighted with himself. After their chuckles subside, she finds herself wondering what if the situation had been reversed. What if she had startled Ichabod, and he inadvertently struck her.   

She reached down, grabbing one of his hands with both of hers. She stretched it out, examining it, holding his pinky and thumb in opposite hands. She shook her head at the sheer size of it. She looked up at him, his hand still clenched in hers. He could never have an error like the one that just occurred. She was strong, and she was a fighter, but the outcome of him accidentally backhanding her would have had a much more far reaching effect.

Abbie shifted her weight on her feet, wincing slightly from discomfort.

“Miss Mills,” he said curiously, “Are you in pain, are you not well?”

“It’s nothing, just those damn heels, on the concrete, my foot’s a little achy.” He had scooped her up and placed her on the counter before she’d barely finished her sentence.

“Which one is it,” His voice was low as he reached for her foot. “This one?” He asked touching her right foot.

“No, the other one, but you don’t have to,” she fell silent as he shushed her. He gripped her foot and his hand, and began slowly massaging it. He couldn’t believe how soft they were, she was on them constantly, and yet her skin felt brand new. Abbie slouched back, wrapping her hands around the other edge of the island. _Damn he’s good with those big assed hands._ She closed her eyes resting, as he worked the kinks out of her foot. After a while a noise somewhere in between a groan and a whimper wrested out of her, and she felt his hands still. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her. His lips were parted slightly, and his cheeks were tinged with red, the look in his eyes was errant, vacant, as if he were somewhere other than where he actually was. Neither of them spoke right away. Ichabod had never wanted her more. It was bad enough seeing her make that face, the one that displayed complete satisfaction and an ancient longing all at the same time, not to mention she’d licked her lips just before bringing them together into the sweetest pout he’d ever seen. But that sound, that sound was downright unfair, and no matter how many soldiers he’d slain on the battlefield, he couldn’t imagine what he’d done to deserve such torment. He was still because he didn’t trust his hands. He was certain they would override his brains instruction to continue rubbing her feet, and rip her tank top and tights off of her instead. He knew firsthand that she was wearing nothing underneath. He wanted to have her, right here and now in the middle of the kitchen, to part her thighs and taste her, and then fill her with more than a year’s worth of restrained love.  After a few moments, he broke the silence.  

“All better?”

“Mm hmm.” She nodded still embarrassed from her moan. She looked up at him as he brought her foot up, and kissed the sole of her toes. She felt a moistening between her legs, lamenting the fact that there were no underwear there to catch it.

“Good.” He replied.

“Great, thank you.” Her eyes flickered with gratitude, and the same look he saw earlier that night on the dance floor. “Well I guess I’m going to call it a night.” She motioned to get up but he stopped her.

“I insist.” He said turning and offering his back to her.

“A piggy-back ride!” She laughed. “I think I can make it.”

“Nonsense.” He said as he pulled her legs around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, smiling against the back of his head.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she cautioned as they reached the edge of the kitchen. “I forgot my headphones.”

“Miss Mills, that additional distance, will cost you an additional fee.”

“Is that right,” She asked. He carried her up to her room, turning so he could drop her onto her bed.

“Thanks for the lift.” She said, her voice filled with sweetness.

“At any time.” He smiled, watching as she unfolded her satin pillow case, and placed it around one of her pillows. He’d seen her do this many times, she had a duplicate of the same pillow case at the cabin.

“Miss Mills, why do you not simply leave it affixed to the pillow?” He asked wondering why she went to the trouble of changing her pillow case every night.

“Because it doesn’t match the rest of my pillow cases, or bed linen. It’s just to keep my hair nice, in case I don’t tie it up.” He tilted his head to the side indicating that he didn’t fully understand, and she sat him down to explain what she meant. Their conversation rolled on, changing subjects several times, and before they knew it, Abbie rested her head at the top of the bed, while Ichabod rested his at the bottom.  

“Lieutenant,”  

“Yes,” she answered softly.

“I am very happy…that you are home.” He whispered.

She gently bit her bottom lip. “So am I.” she paused for a moment before speaking again. “Ichabod?”

“Yes?” He responded quietly, his eyes fixed upon the ceiling.

Abbie hesitated briefly before asking. “Was Katrina your first?” The question took him by surprise a bit, but he responded after a few seconds.

“She was not.”

“Oh.” She says softly rolling unto her side so it’s easier to see him at the foot of the bed. He does the same so he can see her as well.

“So,” she continues, “Were there many others.”

“I suppose it would depend on what you consider many. Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering if you thought of them as…women of ill repute.” She said.

“Abbie.” He sat up, concerned that she was once again believed he thought her to be a woman of ill repute.

“No, not like that, I understand what you were trying to say earlier. You delivery was completely fucked up, but I understand. I just really wonder what you thought of them, back then.” She stated.

Ichabod furrowed his brows, looking in her direction, but he seemed to almost look through her for a moment. “I merely thought that some of them were young, as I was and sought to have enjoy themselves, as I did. Some others I recall were older than I, but were unlucky in that they were still far too young to have become widows.” He didn’t care to discuss past flames with her. The connection they shared dwarfed his former relationships with women, somehow even his marriage to Katrina. It made him uncomfortable to think of it.

“Did you love any of them?” she asked.

“No. There were a few whose company I enjoyed, but it was not love.”

“Until Katrina?”

“Until Katrina.” He repeated laying back down. They stopped speaking and within the half hour he could hear Abbie, falling asleep.

He tilted his head looking down at her, taken by how much he loved her, he wanted all too desperately to crawl under the blankets with her, and hold her through the night. He rose from her bed, before any more thoughts had a chance to settle.   He knew that he could not stay. Ichabod walked around to her side of the bed, standing over her.

“You heading to bed.” She asks, temporarily breaking from her slumber.

“I am.” He whispered, peering down on her, and what a sight she was. Curls splayed across her pillow, eyes heavy, chasing the promise of sleep, and those lips. The ones that touched his face, with a warm and soft tenderness he never knew existed. Before he realized what he was doing he’d sat upon the edge of her bed leaning slightly over her.

“Abbie, I am sorry I hurt you.” He whispered. He’d apologized earlier, but he felt the need to do it again. He needed her to understand how important she was to him, even if he couldn’t reveal the nature of those feelings. Abbie barely opened her eyes, but could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“I know.” She replied faintly.

“I thought you should know that you were the prettiest of them all tonight.” He said.

“Oh Crane,” she covered a gentle yawn before continuing, “You’re so sweet.”

He smiled watching as she slipped into her dreams. “Sleep well Abbie.” He said brushing her hair from her forehead with his thumb. He couldn’t help bending to lay a soft kiss against her temple.  

Ichabod walked into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He placed his palms flat against it, telling himself to leave it closed. After he’d placed a kiss to her forehead, he had an incredible urge to wake, and keep kissing her. He retreated from her room as quickly as possible, but the urge never left him, it beckoned him even now. He needed to talk with her, about the dance, about everything really, but earlier the timing seemed all wrong. Her kiss as innocent as it may have been, awakened something in him, he wanted, more. He wanted her. He sat at the foot of his bed and began disrobing, remembering how perfect her lips felt against his cheek. He sighed touching the very spot they made impact. He wondered what they would feel like traipsing across other parts of his body. He tried to focus his thoughts on Katrina, but somehow Abbie kept commanding his full attention. After adjusting himself, as he often did when he thought of Abbie, he pulled back his blankets and slid into bed. He could still smell her scent on his pillow from where she’d slept only the night before. He lay there thinking of her, imagining a universe where he was free to love her as he did. After a while, his dreams came to find him, and as such, so did she.

The next afternoon Abbie awoke feeling like a million bucks. She thought for sure she would have had a hangover, but she was curiously energized.   The sun beamed through her window, as the curtains rustled ever so slightly. She sat up in her bed and briefly listened to the tunes the birds hummed, smiling at the day the Lord created. She had been up until after 5am talking with Ichabod. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt for not keeping a better eye on him, for hitting him, and kissing him.   _Shit, I let him get high, I’m a terrible friend,_ she thought. She eventually shook it off, _what are you gonna do, shit happens._ A chill slid down her spine as she remembered the way he had touched her the night before. He held her like she belonged to him on the dance floor, without begging forgiveness or asking permission.

When she came downstairs she could hear Ichabod singing. She stood just outside of the kitchen leaning her back against the wall I tried to muffle her giggles.

“4am and my lover won’t ahhnswer, probably somewhere with a dahhncer hmm hmmm, while I am in his bed.” He sang

After a few moments she slipped her head around the corner wearing an ever so sly grin. He stood over the stove cooking, but turned as he heard her enter.

“Miss Mills.” His eyes twinkled. He couldn’t help but notice the expression she wore across her face. “Are you spying on me?”

Abbie tried to straighten her face “Absolutely not.” Ichabod looked at her in disbelief. Her giggles came spilling out, she held up her thumb and pointer finger to indicate a small amount,

“A little.”

“Are Jenny and Irving up yet?” She asked.

“Yes, they left a short while ago to go for breakfast, and retrieve the vehicle.”

“Oh, I’m shocked you didn’t go with them, it’s not like you to pass up food.” She stated pulling the orange juice from the refrigerator.

He looked down at her “I thought they wished to be alone, and I would…rather take repast with you.”

Abbie eyes met his as he sat her plate in front of her. “This looks really good, Crane, thank you.”

Abbie took a bite of her blueberry pancakes, closing her eyes and moaning quietly. He would make her pancakes every day for the rest of his life, if she would make that noise.

He sat beside her and dug into his own plate. Abbie breathed a sigh of relief. After last night she was worried things would be awkward between her and Ichabod, but their breakfast conversation was full of their usual banter. They had gotten a little touchy feely before bed, and that’s not even considering what transpired during their dance. She was happy that it was forgotten. Besides, there was no use in deliberating over insignificant little events that don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Katrina was Ichabod’s wife, and he had sworn to her that they would be reunited, Abbie knew that he was a man of his word, and they would. After breakfast though, things quickly came to a head. The pair began cleaning the dishes, and Abbie could feel Ichabod’s eyes on her, but every time she looked at him he turned away. After the third time this happened she finally said something.

“What?”

Ichabod sheepishly averted his eyes. “Nothing” he said drying a plate and putting it away. He closed the cabinet and turned slowly to face her.

“Rather, I thought perhaps…….do you think we should talk?” He asked setting the remaining plates on the countertop.

“About what?”

Ichabod took a step towards her “About last night.” Abbie stared at him somewhat puzzled. It wasn’t just what he said, but the way he said it, with gravity in his tone, alerting her to the importance of the subject for him. He often sounded that way, when there was a serious matter they needed to discuss.

“I thought we already settled everything, remember, we talked, all was forgiven.”

“We did,” he agreed, now standing directly over her. “Settle some things…and yet…” He took a breath as if he needed it to continue, “I hoped to speak with you regarding the dance we shared.”

Abbie stood there in disbelief, unsure how to react to what was happening. She looked out of the window over the sink horrified. In a brief moment if felt like she was back on the dance floor, his wrists crossed around her waist, pulling her against him. Her head resting upon his chest, as her name slipped from his mouth, but it seemed to come from somewhere much deeper inside of him. She recalled thinking as he held her that way, that his arms simultaneously felt like the safest and most terrifying place she’d ever been. She wanted to run, but also, she wanted to stay. He was high at the time, and she didn’t think he would ever bring it up, but here they were.  

She kept her eyes fixed upon the outdoors, realizing everything around her, around them was rapidly changing. And she wasn’t ready. These were the types of talks that could change the dynamic of a friendship, of a relationship, and she wasn’t ready for them to stop being…..them. She knew that something was wrong, that lines had gotten blurred, but she had no idea of how to unblur them. It wasn’t that she was in complete denial, Jenny knew, so she reasoned that at least one other soul knew how deeply she loved the man next to her, all of him. But she wasn’t ready to tell him that, because once she did, she couldn’t take it back, there is no way to unring the bell. What if he didn’t feel the same? What good could possible come if he did?

The possible outcomes were varied, life altering, and heavy, and she would have to live with them. It was approximately 11:43 am, on a Sunday that was preceded by a week that had already taken a lot out of her, and she couldn’t do life altering, and heavy right now. She just wanted to just be Abbie, a girl who loved justice, music, and oversized individually packaged dill pickles. A quiet, observant girl, who sometimes warred against demons. And she just wanted to spend the day with her friend Ichabod, who loved liberty, books, and eating massive amounts of powdered doughnut holes. A shy, magnificent, man who, as it happened, also warred against demons.   Because those are the things we most often remember, loves, and wars, and pickles and doughnuts, the sour and sweet. Everything else seems to fall to the wayside of our memories, cast aside and forgotten like a gift card with a two cent balance. But if you’re lucky, every once in a while someone comes along who makes all the tiny in-between moments special and worthy of recollection. And he did that for her. So just for today she wanted to sit in the in-between with him, and play chess while listening to something soft and sweet, and that was enough. In her mind talking about last night was the equivalent to opening a door, she wasn’t ready to walk through, and she didn’t know how to close.

“I don’t.” she said after a minute.    

“I beg your pardon?” Ichabod questioned confused.

“–Think we should talk, I mean,” Abbie glanced up at him “I don’t think we should talk about last night….I,” Abbie briefly considered giving further explanation, but decided against it. “Just don’t.” She ultimately decided furrowing her eyebrows.

“I see.” Ichabod responded trying to guise the disappointment dripping from his face.

“It’s been a long week, can we just play chess?” She asked.

Ichabod stared at Abbie for what felt like a few seconds too long before responding. She was running from their issues, and he couldn’t decide if he should allow her, or give chase. He knew her pattern well. Whenever there was something bothering her that she didn’t want to discuss, they played chess. She hid behind horses and pawns, and bishops and rooks, until she was so immersed in the game she forgot what she was hiding from.

“Very well.” He replied somberly hanging the dry towel over the sink.  


	11. Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoy the chapter! :-) I was kind of inspired by this song Choices, by Bastille and To kill a King. Please forgive any grammatical errors.

 

 

 

Abbie sat up in bed, grabbing her buzzing phone off of the night stand. She realized she’d just received a text message from Talum.

**TB:** What are you doing Miss. Not Boring?

**AM:** It’s after midnight, I’m sleeping.

He doesn’t text back right away, and she thinks he realizes it’s too late to contact someone you hardly know. Then his next message comes through.

**TB:** Alone?

Abbie laughs out loud, he has a lot of nerve.

**AM:** That’s none of your business.

**TB:** True. But I wish it was. What happened to that rain check?

**AM:** I got busy. And to be honest, I didn’t think you would want to see me again.

**TB:** Why?! Because you jumped out of my car in the middle of the road, and took off with another dude? Lmao. I don’t scare easy.

**AM:** lol, Pretty much. About that, I was a little drunk, and a lot of other things that night. I’m not the type to just go home with random guys, so if that’s why you’re texting so late you’re wasting your time.

**TB:** I can tell that you’re not that type. I want to see you. Let me take you to dinner.

Abbie sits her phone down on her lap, so she can have a minute to think before she responds. The first thing that comes to her mind is Ichabod, and she feels a little jilt of pain in the center of her chest. She’s in love with him, and only him. The thought of spending time with another man, just doesn’t appeal to her. But after he’d suggested that they talk about what transpired last week at Irving’s party, she realized she wouldn’t be able to hide her feelings forever. She hated lying to him, and he seemed to have an ability to tell when she wasn’t being forthright, so there was no way she could ever talk to him about what happened. She could just hear him, apologizing for his actions, he probably didn’t even understand them. How could he, he was high. What was her excuse, because she was there in the moment with him, allowing him to hold her as he did, leaning her body into him, holding her hands over his as they were wrapped around her belly. The difference was that she was completely aware of what was happening, and she let it.

**AM:** I’m a cop Talum, I’m on a special task force of sorts, so when I say I have limited time, I really mean that. I don’t think it’s a good idea.

**TB:** I’m a surgeon. I know a thing or two about limited time, but you have to make time for the things you want. And I want to see you.

He quickly sends another message.

**TB:** I wasn’t saying that to impress you by the way.

**AM:** Don’t worry bc I wasn’t impressed. Surgeon Smurgeon, what’s so impressive about that? What part of the body do you operate on?

**TB:** Lol. I’m a cardio thoracic surgeon, I’m kinda on a ‘special task force’ of my own.

**AM:** She sends him a blank face, then immediately follows it with a laughing face. He responds quickly.

**TB:** So??? Can I see you?

**AM:** Good night Talum.”

Just as she’s placing her phone back on her nightstand, she hears Ichabod yelling out. Abbie jumps up, and runs to his room. She pauses briefly at the door, hesitant at first wondering if she’s hearing things correctly, then she hears him yell “No!” so she continues opening the door. She finds him sitting in front of his bed with tears welling in his eyes. Immediately she’s at his side kneeling next to him.

“Crane, what’s wrong, what is it.” He peered up at her through tussled strands of hair.

“It’s Katrina, she” his voice broke, he swallowed and tried to still it.

“She came to me in a dream. Warning me that the power of her amulet grows weak, too weak to continue to protect herself from Moloch. She said…” He takes a deep breath, “She said that she devised a plan to escape purgatory, and she will execute it the eve of the next new moon.”

“So she may have found a way out, that’s great news Crane, this is what…” Abbie stopped speaking realizing that the look on Ichabod’s face was not one of happiness or optimism, but dread.

“She said that the escape will be of grave risk to herself, and if I do not hear from her shortly after….then she is no more.” He hung his head bringing the tips of his fingers to his lips, “She kissed me goodbye.” Ichabod sprang to his feet with renewed determination. “I must save her.”

Abbie could see that the inability to help Katrina was tearing Ichabod apart, they had a plan of action, it was just taking a little time to develop. She ran to her phone, and quickly called Seamus.   He had been assisting them in tracking down a book they believed would ultimately enable them to free Katrina. He said that he would call them as soon as it surfaced, but Abbie decided such drastic times required an accelerated game plan. After apologizing for her intrusion upon him at this inconceivably late hour, she arranged for him to meet with them the following morning. They pulled up next to him into to the parking lot of the dealership a few hours before the sun was due to rise.  

“Thanks for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice.” Abbie said taking a seat in his office. “It’s a matter of life and death.”

“I told you before, anything I can do to help the two of you just let me know.” Seamus replied.

Ichabod looked at him somewhat suspiciously “Why is that?”

“Crane” Abbie gasped.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful for your assistance in the past, particularly with Ro’kenhronteys, but I believe under the circumstances it is a perfectly plausible question. If you recall it did take some convincing before you were willing to lend a hand in that situation, so what has changed from then to now?”

Though Abbie didn’t agree with the way Crane brought the matter to discussion, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wondered the same thing. A few months back when she contacted him about the ritual, and the book, he seemed not only willing but almost eager to help.

Seamus glanced at Abbie, her inquisitive glare catching his eye. “My grandmother asked me to help you.”

“Your grandmother, asked you to help us?” Abbie echoed.

“Yes. I was reading in bed one night, and she walked into my room. She told me that if you two required my assistance for anything, anything at all, I should help you.” Seamus pointed over to a family photo on the wall.

“Only thing is my grandmother’s been dead for over thirteen years, and she was right in front of me, so yeah, I’m at your service.”

Abbie looked at Ichabod who nodded his agreement “Works for me” she said. “Let’s get down to business. The book?”

“ _The Book of Realms_?” Seamus questioned.

“That’s the one.” Abbie responded. “What’s the last location you have on it.”

“I believe it’s in the hands of an ancient artifacts dealer in Rhode Island, but it’s like I told you before, these things move quickly, there are no receipts or logs, I could be wrong, there are easily another half a dozen other places it could be.”

“But this guy you told me about Pyrion David, you think he’s the one who has it right now.” Abbie asked.

“Yeah, possibly.  

“Do you have an address for him?” she asked.

Seamus looked at her with widened eyes “Abbie, you can’t just pop in on a guy like Pyrion, guys like that don’t take to kindly to strangers. He deals with some serious black market merchandise, and who knows what other illegal activities he’s into. You arrange a meeting. Even then the types of relics he specializes in require some serious coin, he’s not just going to hand it over to you.”

Abbie leaned forward. “The types of relics he specializes in, are stolen, and I’m a cop.”

“—With absolutely no jurisdiction in Rhode Island, Abbie c’mon think about this, this guy keeps a lot of firepower around to protect his investments, he’s not going to care that you’re a cop.” He turned to Ichabod.

“Do you want to talk some sense into her? You do realize that even with the Book of Realms you still need the Crystal of Siberia in order to perform the ritual.”

“I’ve got a line on the crystal, in fact, if things go according to plan, we’ll have it within the week.”

“What?” Seamus questioned in amazement.

“Yep, it’s what we do.” Abbie stated gloating a little.

“What I need from you, is a location on that book. Seamus, we’re up against it, and we’re already spread thin. I need the list narrowed down to a minimum of three probable locations, so we’re using our resources effectively. Out of all the places it could be, where does your gut tell you it is?” she asked.

“Pyrion.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

Seamus walked over, and started rifling through a file cabinet slated against the wall. “This is everything I have on him” he said handing her a folder.

She and Ichabod stood thanking him. They made it nearly to the door when he called out.

“Abbie remember Pyrion can be dangerous, you two be careful. God’s speed.”

The witnesses nodded, and continued out of the door.

* * *

 

 

Just the week before, Jenny was able to successfully track the Crystal of Siberia, to a bed and breakfast in Oregon’s wine country.   Abbie, booked her plane tickets and made reservations as soon as Jenny discovered the location. The couple who ran the bed and breakfast had been making a killing for years selling and trading these “heirlooms”. It was quite clever, the way they conducted their business, everything appeared legitimate, but for the elite collector, they were easy enough to find. Couples spent a weekend being wined and dined, and surveying the goods available for purchase, then on the final evening there was an auction. After doing some digging Jenny found that the way to get in on bidding for the collectables was to request that you stay in the Roosevelt suite. In reality there was no Roosevelt suite, so there was never any confusion. During auction weekends, the owners would simply tell regular perspective guests that they did not have any rooms available. Abbie and Ichabod set their reservation under the assumed names of Mr. and Mrs. William and Audrina Lippett. It seemed simple enough. They were to arrive at the bed and breakfast Friday afternoon, and would have in between then, and Sunday morning to switch the diamond with an exact replica they had created. Ironically the part that most worried Abbie was pretending to be Crane’s wife. After months of trying to keep a safe distance from him, she now had to swing things in the other direction in order to believably appear as his blushing bride.    

A few nights before they were set to fly out, Abbie, Ichabod, Jenny, and Irving all sat in the archives going over their game-plan.

“How long shall it take us to drive to Oregon? Ichabod asked.

“Just a few hours, we’ll be flying.” Abbie smiled.

Ichabod felt his muscles in his chest seize up. He had seen airplanes, many times, sometimes flying overhead, others on television, and the internet. He mused at how miraculous it all was, mankind travelling distances in moments that it would have taken months in his time. However he had also seen accounts of when such travel went woefully awry. Video of airplane wreckage traipsed through his mind reminding him that for all the good such technological advances had done in bringing people together, it was not without risk.

“Oh, I see.” He said softly a bit of worry detectable in his tone.

Abbie gently squeezed his arm. “We’ll be fine, I promise.” She flashed him a reassuring smile.

A few hours later Abbie and Ichabod went up to her office to retrieve a few things they needed for the trip. As soon as she opened her door she was overwhelmed by an array of vases filled with beautiful floral arrangements. For a minute, she wonders if she’s walked into the wrong office, she and Ichabod look at each-other curiously for a moment. Abbie peaks her head outside of the door, getting the attention of Judy, the desk clerk, who quickly rushes over.

“Oh I put them in here. I hope it’s okay. I was going to hold them at the desk for you, but they just kept coming and coming. I counted seven of them in all, must be some guy.” She smiled. Judy was an older woman, on the force. She was constantly pestering Abbie, asking if she’d met a nice man, and trying to fix her up with her lawyer nephew. She meant well, so most of the time Abbie overlooked it. Abbie was a little confused after checking one of the cards. It had only the word ‘make’ written on it, with a number two in the left hand corner. The second card she checked had the word ‘please’ written on it with a one in the left hand corner. She quickly realized that the cards formulated a sentence when placed in sequential order. Ichabod helped her put them all in order, and she read aloud.

“Please make time to see me.” By the time she finished reading Abbie knew exactly who the flowers were from. Judy, who was still in the room swooning over the flowers pointed out that they’d missed a vase.

“This one was big so I sat it on the floor behind your desk.” Ichabod walked over and picked up the final card. As soon as he read it, he turned his head away, he hoped the others hadn’t noticed his disgruntled expression. He handed the note to Abbie, and watched her reaction.

“Talum” she said shaking her head, while the slightest hint of a smile curved her lips. It was subdued, but Ichabod could see in her eyes that it was a real smile. He’d become accustomed to being the man who did that for her, who made her smile. He pulled his hands behind his back as he felt them start to twitch. It was horribly disconcerting to see her reacting that way, knowing another man was responsible for it. He badly wanted to gather up the every vase and throw them out of the window, then turn to Abbie and demand that she never speak to him again. But he couldn’t, not only for obvious reasons. He knew how things worked. Women choose. Of all the things that had changed throughout the ages, this one had not. When he’d told Miss Jenny the story of how his relationship with Katrina began, how she’d chosen him, and subsequently ignited a feud between him and Abraham, she informed him that by today’s standard, Abraham would be deemed a hater. Ichabod had no intention of becoming such, even though his disdain for this Talum was growing exponentially. If Ichabod wanted to be chosen, he would have to show Abbie that he was worthy of being selected. So he made certain to compliment her on her beautiful flowers.

“We’re leaving the day after tomorrow, they’ll be dead when I get back, I’ll have to give some of them away.” She replied.

Abbie gave the largest vase to Judy, took one for herself, and then welcomed her coworkers to the others. On the way home Ichabod stopped off at Home Depot. When he pulled into the parking space he noticed Abbie chuckling softly looking down at her phone.

“Miss Jenny?” He inquired lifting an eyebrow.

“Uhh...Talum.” She answered still typing. This time when he made a face he didn’t care if she seen him, but he knew that she didn’t because she was too busy looking at her damned phone.

“Are you coming in?” He asked stepping outside of the car. She looked up at him.

“Yeah, I’ll catch up with you.” Abbie returned to her phone, only to do a double take after hearing her car door slam.

“What the?” She mumbled looking after Crane. She finished up her message to Talum trying to explain why she couldn’t have dinner with him. He had just threatened to send her flowers every day until she accepted his dinner invitation.

**AM:** Look, you seem like a really nice guy, but…

She sat for a moment thinking about how much about herself she wanted to reveal to this man before she finished typing.

**AM:** My heart is not my own, I’m in a weird place, and I don’t think it’ll be fair.

She quickly hit send before she changed her mind. She needed him to know that she couldn’t give him what he was asking for, because she didn’t control it. She didn’t want to hurt him, or lead him on. How could she open heart to him when it was firmly entrenched in Ichabod’s grasp.

**TB:** Oh. Do you have a boyfriend now?” He messaged.

**AM:** No.

**TB:** A husband.

**AM:** No.

**TB:** Is this about that guy who you left with that night?

**AM:** My life is complicated. I think we should just leave it at that.

**TB:** Or, you could come to dinner with me, and we’ll see where things go from there. P.S. Don’t worry about your heart. I’m really good at fixing them.

Abbie sighed, leaning her head back against the seat.

**AM:** Ok. To dinner. But it will be a few weeks before I can swing it.

He sent her a smiley face along with a message attached.

**TB:** I’ll take it!

After searching all over the store Abbie found Ichabod in the garden center. He’d loaded his cart up with packages of soil, shovels, and plant food, and flowers seeds.

“What’s all this?” She asked fingering the contents.

He turned around tossing a pair of gardening gloves into the cart. “I have decided to start a garden.” He answered jubilantly.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you liked gardening.”

“Oh yes, quite. I’m hoping to start it in a few weeks.” He took her by the hand, leading her over to the fresh flowers.

“Show me the ones you most enjoy. I know these are your favorites,” He said pointing to the lilies. “As well as these,” He added selecting the tulips. “But what others do you prefer?” Abbie thought the flowers were beautiful, but she was much more focused on the fact that he hadn’t let go of her hand. He was so busy picking out flowers she wondered if he even noticed. She released his hand, and drug her finger tips over a petal of the tulips.

“This is really sweet Ichabod, I think she’s going to love which ever ones you decide on.”

“She?” He asked quizzically.

“Katrina.” Abbie smiled trying to be happy for him. “Isn’t that who you’re doing this for, when she’s home?”

Ichabod looked at the flowers in front of him. He’d actually wanted to start the garden for Abbie. The flowers she was given today, would not last the duration, but a garden would be something she could enjoy for many years to come. Her words made him realize how foolishly he was behaving, he couldn’t compete for Abbie’s affections, he was married. He knew the reality of his situation, but no matter how he tried to remember he always seemed to forget. It was beginning to sink in that this is the way things would always be. They would rescue Katrina, and being the man he is, he would honor his vows. He would live and die this way, with his heart essentially hidden from the one who owned it. They would win the war, she would move on to an illustrious career in law enforcement, most assuredly fall in love, then marry, and become the mother of the most adorable children the world has ever seen. Children that by all counts, should be his.

“Hey, you okay.” Abbie tapped his shoulder, noticing the tension in his face.

He brought his hand to his beard gently stroking it, “Oh, yes. I am well. To answer your question I believe a flower…to be a gift to us all.” He stated finding her gaze. She smiled at him, and he was overly taken by the way the golden evening sun, travelled through the shelving and clung to her eyes. On the way out, he watched her in the parking lot as she smiled at the purple-pink, orange, and blue sky off in the distance. He knew then, he was cursed.

“So are we dropping this stuff off at the cabin?” She asked after buckling her safety-belt.

“The cabin?” He asked, uncertainty apparent in his voice. Abbie turned her eye’s to the driver’s side of the car.

“Oh I’m just operating in faith right now. I was assuming that after we rescue Katrina, you and she would, ya know, want your own space.”

_‘My God! She means to throw me out!’_ “Oh…I…I must admit I have yet to consider our living arrangements.”

“I mean you’re both welcome to stay…if that’s what you want, I just thought with the two of you being married, you really need…privacy. ‘ _Jesus please don’t let him accept, I can’t, I CANNOT. Please don’t let him try to move this broad in, because I can’t do it. I was trying to be kind, and you know my heart, if they didn’t have anywhere else to go, I would welcome them, you know that Jesus, but they do, so I am begging you, please do not let him screw her under my rooooof, PLEASE!’_ Abbie reached over and cracked her window to let some air in, she was literally sick just thinking about it. Ichabod could tell from the way Abbie presented his options which one she preferred. This was really happening. He would no longer rest his head, in the same home as her. Before he knew it that scurvy louse Talum Bradford, will move in for the kill. _He will be sitting on my couch, watching my television, with my Abbie, EATING MY POPCORN. Well he will NOT be watching Citizen Kane, nor The Network, nor Fools Rush In, because I’m taking them with me, those were our special films, which we watched together. Oh and what of my lawn tools, and woodworking station in the garage._

Abbie was leaned all the way back against the window, staring at Crane like a crazy person. She’d called his name twice already. He was sitting in the parking lot with the key in the ignition, staring straight ahead, holding the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

“Crane.”

“I do not want him in the garage!” Ichabod spit out, madly, before he realized what he was saying.

“What now?” She asked trying to lean even further away from him. ‘ _He is tripping balls right now.’_

“Have you been hanging around Marlo again, you don’t want who in the garage?” Abbie asked completely perplexed.

“Uhh, apologies!” He said coming back to life, he turned to face her. “The cabin, yes, the cabin will suit us quite nicely thank you.” He stated.

 

The next day, Ichabod stood at the foot of his bed quietly going through his luggage for the third time that evening. He and Abbie’s flight was in the morning, and he wanted to make sure that everything went as smoothly as possible. He wouldn’t be able to wear his jacket or any of the clothes he procured from the reenactment site he’d stumbled upon. He let out a heavy sigh. He knew that he stood out in them, and he knew that they drew attention to him when really he should aim to go unnoticed. Still he always felt more comfortable and in control when he was able to wear them. However they were Ichabod Crane’s clothes, and this weekend he was not Ichabod Crane, but William Lippett, an independently wealthy entrepreneur, and husband to the suffocatingly beautiful Audrina Lippett. Ichabod ran his finger across the edge of his driver’s license remembering fondly when Irving gave him the birth certificate and social security number he needed to acquire it. He had everything set.

Abbie reached into her luggage, and pulled out the lace nighty that Jenny had slipped inside for the third time.

“Will you please, stop it? I’m not taking that.” She said through clenched teeth.

“Oh I get it, you wanna go commando, huh.” Jenny teased. Abbie looked at her scornfully. “Hey no big deal, you’re just trying to save him some time, I understand completely.

“You know what, for thee last time. We’re going undercover.”

“—Deep undercover” Jenny snickered.

“No just plain old fashioned undercover, its business, a job, nothing more. And wait a minute when did you become so pro Crane anyway, what ever happened to ( whiny voice) you’re going to be a side chick, he’s married, to a witch blah, blah, blah.” Abbie teased. Jenny lightly giggled and sat crossed legged on Abbie’s bed. In honesty, Jenny just wanted her sister to be happy, and she saw that Crane made her that way. But if she had to pinpoint the moment that she became pro Crane and Abbie, it would have been when he jumped out of the cab, and darted across four lanes of traffic, to ensure she didn’t take off with Talum. After living with them, it was clear to her how much he cared for her, she wondered how Abbie hadn’t picked up on it yet.

“I don’t know, I just see how you guys are together.”

Abbie shook her head. “What are you talking about now?” she asked looking up from packing.

“C’mon Abbie, I mean the way you guys _are_ together, like you make his plate, he cooks for you, he rubs your feet, you do his laundry.”

“I do _your_ laundry.” Abbie griped looking up from her suitcase.

“We’re not talking about me right now. I’m just saying you two act more like a couple than friends anyway, this weekend should be a breeze for you guys. Jenny held up the nighty again. “You sure?”

“Positive.” Abbie answered. You know what this is, right?” Abbie added.

Jenny tilted her head to the side. “What?”

“You’re happy right now.”

Jenny sighed dismissively, “Oh C’mon.”

“—No, that’s exactly what this is,” she said taking a seat on the bed. “You’re happy with Frank, and you just want to see everyone as happy as you guys are, so you’re trying to couple us off, the only problem is, he’s already part of a couple.” Abbie smiled. “I know you mean well, because of”, she looks toward the door to make sure Ichabod isn’t anywhere around, “You know, because you know how I felt about him, but it just isn’t in the stars for us ya know. And honestly I think things will be easier once Katrina is free.”

“Umm, how do you figure, I was thinking like the exact opposite of what you just said.”

“Because then, it will be there, right in my face,” Abbie let the backside of her hand smack into her other palm.

“This constant reminder that he’s unavailable, and it’ll help me to pull my head out of the clouds, and keep my mind from going on these ridiculous flights of fancy. And I’m not looking for anything, but maybe when I’m not entertaining myself with this clearly unattainable romance, the real thing will come along.” Abbie stood and resumed packing.

“Bells, you really think there’s someone out there who will do it for you like he does? You guys are good together, you _could_ be good together.” Jenny argued.

Abbie laughed, “Are you kidding me, we fight, all the time.”

“Exactly, that’s because you guys have something that’s worth fighting for. When was the last time a guy got under your skin the way Icky does? Never. You’ve always been apathetic during disputes, Ichabod is the only man I’ve ever seen get you all riled up, now ask yourself why that is.” Jenny advised.

“Uhh I already know why, it’s because he’s annoying, pompous, opinionated, and glib.” Abbie counted off on her fingers.

“And because you love him. Don’t you ever think he might feel the same way about you? That maybe he loves you too.” Jenny proposed.

“Of course he loves me, Jenny, I’m his partner in a war that he has no chance of winning without me. But he doesn’t have the same type of feelings, I have for him…” Jenny can see the pain in her sister’s face. “And he didn’t _choose_ me to be his partner…he chose her.”

“I don’t know,” Jenny said standing up, “I just want you to be happy, look I gotta cut out, you be careful, and I’ll see you guys in Rhode Island.” She added.

“I love you, and you be more careful. Do not engage Pyrion, until we are all there. You have Dunn’s number right?”

Abbie had given Jenny the number to an old friend of hers who worked as a private investigator in Rhode Island. She hoped that the two of them could start surveillance on Pyrion, while she and Ichabod were retrieving the crystal.

“I have it, I remember, you told me a thousand times already, don’t engage just watch. I love you too, have a safe flight, and call me when you get there.”

With that she was out the door. Abbie stood for a moment looking at herself in the mirror. “You can do this, you’re going to do what you have to do help him save Katrina, and then you’re going to suck it up, and stop pining away for Ichabod Crane.” Her words increased with volume at the end of the sentence.

“What is it Lieutenant?” Abbie screamed and jumped nearly three feet as she turned to find Ichabod standing in her doorway.

“My deepest apologies, I’ve startled you” He said taking a few steps into her room.

“No.” she gasped. “No you didn’t startle me, I knew you were there.” She lied nervously tucking her hair behind her ear. He noticed. It was her tell. Whenever she was nervous or frustrated about something she had a tendency to play with her hair. He found it utterly irresistible.

“Good then. I heard you call my name, did you want something?” He questioned making himself too comfortable in her room for her liking. In the beginning he refused to even cross the threshold, yet now he lurked and entered uninvited, and unannounced. Who was he anyway to just waltz into her room, and start asking questions when she was having a perfectly good conversation with herself.

“Oh um, I had to tell you that, I mean to…to uh…wear a light jacket in case it rains.” She stumbled. She used to be such a good liar, why was it always so hard lying to him.

“Of course, I’ll set one out immediately. Is there anything else?” He asked in a tone that in her opinion indicated he didn’t believe that was truly what she wanted to ask him.

“No there’s nothing else, just the jacket.” she replied softly.

Very well then, I bid you adieu til the morning.” He said bowing before taking his leave. After she closed the door behind him she let her body fall against it. This was going to be a long weekend.

 

* * *

 

Cranes eyes brightened as their cab pulled up to the four story Victorian style home. It looked so peaceful and inviting, a welcome departure from his dreadful experience at the airport. Twice Abbie worried that he would be detained and they would not be allowed to board their flight. Abbie making apologies only infuriated him further.

“As if we should apologize when they searched through our luggage and unfairly withheld my tea, and patching kit, without re-compensation I might add. Not to mention all that debauchery that ensued when I merely questioned the necessity of removing my shoes.” He scoffed.

“I told you all of this before. Things have happened, the attacks on our country…unspeakable things. I know that it can feel a little invasive but they’re just trying to keep everyone safe. Besides I told you to leave the patching kit home because it had scissors in it, and I’m sure there will be tea where we’re going.” Abbie replied.

“And if I should acquire a tear in my clothing, will there be a seamstress on hand as well?” He asked sarcastically.

“Nope but I’m sure there’ll be a Target.”   She answered rolling her eyes.

“Still, they had no right to interrogate me in that room, and forcing me to remove my clothing was a clear violation and an egregious infringement upon my liberty.”

“Welp maybe you should have listened to me, when I told you to take off your damn shoes. You’re lucky they even let us on the plane, your antics nearly landed you on the no fly list.”

Abbie and Ichabod took in the beautiful garden scenery as the followed the long path up to the door. The large door was open and an attractive, slightly heavy-set, woman warmly called them in through it.

“Hello we’re William and Audrina Lippett, pleased to make you acquaintance.” Ichabod said taking her hand, and bowing slightly.

“Likewise, welcome, so wonderful to have you.” I’m Chelsea Roberts, and this is my husband Peter, he can help with your bags.” She said motioning for him to take Abbie’s bag.

“Did you have a pleasant flight?” Ichabod immediately frowned flashing back to being forced to strip, and spread his legs up against a cold wall.

“We did, it was quite a view on the way in.” Abbie piped up. “What a lovely home, it’s even more beautiful in person.”

“Oh thank you.” Chelsea gushed. “We’ve put a lot of work into it,” she chimed.

“Well it certainly shows.” Abbie said looking up to admire the painting on the ceiling of the foyer. Chelsea and Peter appeared to be in their late forties/early fifties.

“Let us show you to your room.” Chelsea said linking her arm with Abbie’s. “What a pretty dress, I used to have something just like it. Abbie was wearing a pale yellow summer dress with tan leather wedges with light wicker bottoms.  

“So how long have you all been married?”

“A little over a year.” Ichabod called up the steps.

“Oh practically newlyweds, how sweet.” Chelsea gushed.   “Any children?” she asked.

“No mam, not yet.” Abbie replied.

“Well you’re both young plenty of time for that, Peter and I never had any children, but we looked after my sister’s children quite a bit when they were younger. That was years ago though they’re all grown up now with children of their own.”

When they reached the top of the landing Peter introduced them to Margaret and Steven Chambers who’d arrived earlier. There were five couples in all, with the addition of Peter, Chelsea, and their staff it was a lot of eyes they would have to watch out for when switching the diamond.  

“And here we are, I hope everything is to your liking. Your restroom is right inside and to the left. Feel free to explore the house and the grounds, and make yourselves at home. Dinner will be served at six thirty prompt, afterwards we’ll have a preview of some of the items we’ll have available for auction.”

“Thank you, that sounds wonderful.”   Abbie closed the door behind them and quickly started unpacking her bag. She removed her scanner, and started checking the room for bugs. There was a lot of money at stake and she didn’t know what the Roberts were capable of. Twenty minutes later she was able to breathe a little easier when the scan came up empty. She stood on the balcony admiring the scenery, and boats in the distance while Ichabod used the bathroom. Before long she felt his hand slip against her shoulder.

“It’s breathtaking isn’t it?” Abbie said looking out from the balcony.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.” He replied never taking his eyes off of her. He gently closed his eyes willing himself to commit the mental snapshot of her against the backdrop of the mountains to his memory.

“It’s a little after noon so that gives us some time to explore before we need to dress for dinner. They’re bringing the goods out before tomorrow’s auction, so if we pay attention we can find out where they keep them. Are you ready to do this?” she asked turning to face him. He peered down at her and held his hand out.

“Of course, after you Mrs. Lippett.” He said winking.

Abbie and Ichabod spent a few hours just tooling around town. It was a quaint little community a mixture of boating, vineyards, and lots of neat shops tucked away throughout the landscape. Though they were away from the home they still made it a point to hold hands and appear, at least loosely, as a couple. Abbie kept thinking how easy and natural it all felt, walking hand and hand with him, or the feeling of his arms wrapping around her as she watched the water. She remembered the feeling well all too well. After walking for a bit Abbie thought about renting bikes, but after Ichabod tested one out she realized it was a terrible idea. It was going to be hella hard to steal the diamond after he broke every bone in his body. A little bit later they stumbled upon a boat rental stand, which instantly drew a wide smile from Abbie.

He looked down on her, instantly excited by her interest in them. “Would you like to rent one, we could take a turn around the lake?”

“I’d love too, but I don’t know anything about boating.” Abbie admitted.

Ichabod smiled. “Well you’re in luck, I know a great deal of boating, be it sailing, rowing, the lot. I spent a fair amount of time on ships as a young boy. Shall we” he said pulling her by the hand.

She’d taught him so much, he was always happy when he had the chance to teach her new things. This afternoon had been the most fun he’d had in a long while, he was absolutely delighted, and remained so up until he saw the rental fee. As soon as he had received his bonus he had insisted purchasing all of his necessities for himself. On top of what he spent purchasing Abbie’s necklace, covering a few meals, not to mention his latest purchase of material for Abbie’s garden, he didn’t have enough to cover the rental fee. He stood hand in hand with Abbie, while his eye’s sifted over the sign with the rental rates listed, he immediately felt a pang of embarrassment.   He hated the thought of her financing leisure activities for him. He turned around and gently pulling her wrist.

“Actually I am rather fatigued, perhaps it is best we return to our lodgings.” He said quietly.

Abbie excused them from the gentlemen working the rental booth, stepping just out of his earshot. “What are you talking about this is the most excited I’ve seen you all day, now you’re tired?”

“Yes, it just suddenly fell over me. Perhaps it's related to this jet lag you described to me before embarking on our journey.” He said trying to sound believable.

Abbie could tell there was a shift in him, and she had an idea that it was the money situation again, so she tried joking with him to lighten the mood.

“Well you are pretty old, so if you can’t keep up.” Whenever she joked with him about his age he usually laughed, but this time he merely nodded his head in agreement.

“You’re correct, I think the day has taken its toll, we should depart.” He said offering her his arm.

_‘Nope we’re not doing this, we work too hard, when we have moments we can enjoy that’s what we should do.’_ She thought. Abbie marched back to the rental area.

“We’ll take one.”

Ichabod looked at her with disbelief. “Ab” he started then corrected himself sharply.

“Audrina.” He thought it foolish as they were away from the bed and breakfast, but Abbie mandated that they only refer to one another by their assumed names.

Abbie returned to him with their ticket in hand, “Coming?”

“I wish that just once you would actually listen to me, and take my desires into consideration.” He stated following behind her.

“Believe or not that is exactly what I’m doing.” She said stepping into the boat. Ten minutes into the ride they were sitting in silence.  

Abbie threw her head back allowing the late afternoon sun to kiss the skin on her neck. She smiled to herself. “It’s so calm and peaceful out here, I wish we could just stay this way.”

She looked over at Ichabod who took a short break from rowing. “It is. This is one of the most blissful peaces known to man, but I’m afraid staying out here would be rather costly.”

“Crane.” She warned.

He shook his head back and forth. “William.”

Abbie raised her palms up and glanced around. “Are you kidding me, we’re in the middle of a lake. No one is going to hear us out here.”

“All the same, back in the room you physically assaulted me when I called you Lieutenant.”

“I pushed you that hardly constitutes—,” Ichabod raised an eyebrow.

“You know what it doesn’t matter, William, Lippett, Crane whatever you want to call yourself, I don’t want to talk about money, or sit here and listen to you babble on about money. I just want to lay here and listen to the birds while I luxuriate in the sun. Okay?”

Ichabod resumed rowing. “Fine.”

Abbie sank her head back, and closed her eyes.

He knew that he shouldn’t say anything, that he should leave well enough alone, and just continue rowing but he felt the words chipping away at his insides so vigorously that he was compelled to them out.

“Just know, that I will return every dollar.”

She opened her eyes and sat forward. “What did I just say?”

“Look at me.” She ordered. In that moment he felt so ashamed that he couldn’t bear to meet her gaze, so he kept his eyes upon the water’s edge.

“Ichabod, look at me.” She said again, but this time gentler, so sweetly that he had no choice but to obey. She responded by taking his hands into hers. She spoke slowly and deliberately the way he noticed she often did when she meant for him to not only listen but to truly hear her.

“You have. To stop. Beating yourself up about things that are 100%. Out. Of your. Control.” He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.

You’ve already said yourself that given the chance you would do the same for me, so let me do this. Stop going into a shell every single time that I reach for my purse, it’s a waste of time that we don’t have.” She pleaded.

Ichabod bowed his head studying their hands.

“It’s only….this is the only me that you have ever known. I merely wish that you could have known me when I was…confident in the world around me, and earning a more respectable wage.   I assure you that version of myself stood in sharp contrast to the bumbling, penniless, scoundrel who sits before you now.”

Abbie can’t help but laugh. “In what world are you a scoundrel Ichabod Crane?”

He raises both eyebrows, and gives her a devious look which instantly causes her heart to beat a little faster. She thought about how ironic it was the way God brought people into you life to teach you different things. Shortly, before she started dating Luke there was this gorgeous guy she had gone on a few dates with. On their second date, they stopped into a store to grab a few things and just as Abbie was checking out he came to the counter holding a pack of gum asking her buy it for him. It was only a dollar so she did, thinking nothing of it. She was irritated though, that he never offered her the dollar back, but decided to overlook it. The final straw came when he offered to cook her dinner. At first she was excited ‘ _this is more like it_ ’ she thought. That excitement was short lived when she realized he wanted to make her steak and lobster, but he intended for _her_ to purchase the steak _and_ the lobster. She didn’t give a fuck how fine he was, as soon as she caught her breath from laughing so hard, she disrespectfully declined, and hung up the phone. She wasn’t that girl, the one who spent her hard earned money buying things for grown ass, able bodied, men. She worked too hard, had too many trust issues, and could never hold herself out there at the risk of being taken advantage of. But things were different with Crane. Not that he was like a boyfriend or anything, but they were a team, and she knew he would never take advantage of her.

“I’m happy with the guy you are right now.” He looks away so she placed her fingers beneath his chin to redirect his eyes to hers. “This brilliant, honest, compassionate, albeit sometimes bumbling man who spends his days and nights working so hard, and doing immensely important work. Who cares if it’s not reported in the gross domestic product, it shouldn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. Besides, you have a job lined up, starting at the end of summer.” She brushes his beard one final time and withdraws her hand. He sighs a little wishing her cool fingers were still slipping through the whiskers on his face. He has this nagging desire to reach for her hand again, because he’s spent most of the day with it inside of his, and he misses it now that it’s gone. Because when her hand is in his, it feels as though it belongs there, and when it’s there he can pretend that it does, even if it’s only for a moment. He’s happy when she places her tiny fingers over his knuckles, and he immediately seizes the opportunity to wrap his hands around hers again.

She smiles at him. “You are always there for me every single time I need you.” She says with her eyes lighting up as if it’s something she’s only just discovered.

Ichabod arches an eyebrow, and inches forward so that he’s just inches from her face. “What was that?” He asks teasingly.

She pulls her hand out of his and shoves him back. “Get outta here.” She smiles stretching her limbs up towards the light. He’d never actually heard her say that she needed anyone or anything, however he had heard her speak of what she didn’t need on multiple occasions. He’d made the mistake of telling Jenny to pause the video game one evening because Abbie _needed_ him in the kitchen. As soon as he entered the kitchen a scowling Abbie made it a point to inform him that he was mistaken, even though she called him in.

“I would like for you to hand me the salad bowl above the cabinet, but I don’t actually _need_ you to get it, if you don’t I can slide that chair over here, climb up on the counter top and get it down myself, but as you can see I’m a little busy right now.” She stated much to his bewilderment. He had half a mind to slide the chair over to the cabinet for her, and instruct her to procure it herself, but he didn’t. He simply took the bowl down, and let her know if she required, or _wanted_ any further assistance he would in the living room. They’d had a few discussions about her inability to use this very phrase.   She looked over at him and immediately knew he was pouting, actually pouting.

“Crane, come on.” She cooed tilting her head to the side.

Ichabod sat rod straight and gazed at her from the corner of his eye. “Come on and what Lieutenant?” The words flung from his mouth with an incredible amount of salt, and he still refused to look at her squarely.

“Seriously, you know I…” she sighed and drug her bottom lip under her teeth. “You know how I feel about you.”

Ichabod finally faced her directly. “Do I?”

Abbie’s eye grow. “Yes Crane!” She scans their surroundings aware of how freely she’s using his name, she lowers her voice and leans in closer.

“You know how much you mean to me, you’re my partner, you’re there for me hands down, no matter what.” Her declarations win her a small smile from Ichabod, but he still hasn’t forgotten what started all of this. He doesn’t know why but he feels himself leaning into her personal space, he doesn’t stop until he’s so close that he can actually feel her body heat. On second thought he realizes that he simply wants to be close to her, because it makes him feel good.” _‘Why does it feels so indescribably good to be near her?’_

“If you’re affirmations are true, then why is it so difficult for you to admit that my presence in your life is need—a requirement, rather than mere desire.”

Abbie is fighting for composure, and breath realizing if she leans just a few inches forward their lips would touch. The noise of their surroundings dissipates, and her ears seem to cloud over.   The loud thumping of her heart is the only thing she hears clearly.   Abbie angles her head downward, looking at his hands, which are once again surrounding hers.

“It’s just…something…I don’t say.”

“Why?” He ask in a low voice somehow managing to move closer without their faces actually touching.  

“When I” she sighs heavily fully aware of what he’s asking for. They had drifted into a shaded area, but her face burned as if the sun was directly on it.

Abbie could feel the tears building behind her eyes but fought to still them. He heard her in ways that others didn’t, at times little things she said or subtle omissions, could allow him a view into the deepest parts of her, everything unseen. She never imagined being in this position—ever. It was always her and Jenny, she was the only one she ever needed. At least that’s what she told herself. She could hear echoes of her younger self, the one who forged the walls that protected her, pleading with her not to tear down the final remnants keeping him out. ‘ _Don’t let him any closer, you’ve already shared too much of yourself, he’ll hurt you eventually, others always do.’_ Abbie ignored that part of herself, raised her eyes to Ichabod and slowly continued speaking.

“When I was a little girl, I thought my daddy was the most amazing person that ever existed. He was smart, and gentle, and funny, he was so, so funny. I was fascinated by him, Jenny and I both were. He worked hard, long hours, but he always found time to spend with us, whether he took us out, or just came in our room, and hung out for a few hours. He would put on these old records, and we’d just sing. And no matter what, every single Friday he took Jenny and I, for ice-cream cones. I always, always would get vanilla, and he and Jenny always got chocolate.” Abbie eyes briefly reflected fond remembrance, before a backdrop of pain overtook them.

“Then one day I came home from school, and he was packing his suitcase. Jenny wasn’t there thank God, she’d gotten three checkmarks on the board, and had to stay after for a half an hour, so I went ahead without her. When I asked him why he was packing all of those things, he just looked at me, and…he asked me if I remembered when he showed me how to dance. How he’d explained to me the reason we made such good dance partners was because we moved to the same beat. He said he, and my mama just didn’t hear the same beat anymore, and…they would both be a lot happier dancing alone for a while. So he was moving out…and…I begged him. I begged, and pleaded with him not to go. Not to leave mama, or Jenny…and me. I told him that mama talked about monsters, and Jenny gets scared, and that she needed him. The more he packed the more I cried, and I wrapped myself around his leg, and begged him to stay. ‘I need you Daddy, please don’t go’ was the last thing I ever said to him, and he left anyway, and that was the last time I ever told anyone that I needed them.”

“Oh Abbie” Ichabod said tightening his grip around her hands. “I was woefully unaware.” Abbie cast her tear filled eyes up at him.

“I know, how could you have known that? There was a moderate pause before she spoke again. “Ichabod.”

“Yes.” He answered looking into her eyes.

“I need you.” Abbie felt a chill rush through her as she let the words go.

His mouth fell open, fully aware of what it cost her to say those words. She cringed because it hurt her just to say them, and she couldn’t help but notice how terribly small she felt in the moment. Ironically as small as she was physically, she never felt that way inside. There was always this kind of underlying confidence that she could meet directly whatever life had to throw at her. Apparently everything except for this, whatever this was. Wanting him, and needing him. His eyes slowly closed as he rested his forehead against hers. He tried to draw a breath, but when he opened his mouth, a stolen one filtered out instead. Ichabod had waited so long to hear those words, to know that she couldn’t do everything on her own, to know that his presence in her life that was a necessity.

“Once more, please, so I am certain of what I believe I just heard.” He whispered.

The last of her barriers broke, and her expression was now visibly weepy. She swallowed softly and heard a small voice she barely recognized as her own.

“I need you,” she repeated softly with tears spilling down her face. Their longing settled between them, hanging like a branch in the open air. They were only mere inches apart, but travelling even that short distance would inevitably lead them a thousand miles from where they were now. They both knew it. He softly trailed his fingers up her left arm, and shoulder leaving a tiny army of goose bumps in their wake. He wanted her so desperately.  Her words sifted through his interior, and attached themselves to a place inside of him that he wasn’t even aware of. He could take her right then, he thought. There was an eerie presence in that moment, the water slapped gently against the side of the boat, as what seemed to be a heavenly wind whirled around them, and in that moment he knew that she was his. He slid his hands around the back of her neck allowing his long digits to splay through her tresses. His other hand slipped possessively around her waist, and he couldn’t believe how wonderful it felt to be touching her in this way. His thumb took a gentle stroll along her jaw line. He kept thinking how fragile and vulnerable she looked before him. A stark departure of how strong she usually appeared. He thought how beautiful she was exposed this way, the whole of what he had only caught glimpses of before. He thought of how her admission would change things between them, already he felt an increase in his desire to love and support her, to protect her. And then he stopped thinking altogether, and began moving his mouth towards hers. A soft, anticipatory, moan eased from the back of her throat as he tilted her head back.

 

“Yoohoo, William, Audrina, Lippetts! Hey love birds, we’ve been calling and calling you.”

Abbie and Ichabod both realized that secluded paradise they thought they were in, was actually not so secluded after all. It was simply a boat in a small section of the lake, surrounded by walkways full of people. They had drifted back in without ever noticing. But they hadn’t gone unnoticed. They looked up to find the couple they met at the top of the stairs just a few feet away from them on the walkway.

Ichabod spoke first as Abbie hid her face behind his back shoulder, drying her tears. “Oh hello Mr. Chambers, Mrs. Chambers, forgive us we did not see you there.”

“I guess not” the stocky gentlemen piped up. “We actually started calling you two when you were down in that part of the lake.” He said pointing downwind. Ichabod and Abbie realized they had become so consumed in each-other that it didn’t register when someone called them by their assumed names. To be honest, the way they felt, someone could have been all of two feet from them shouting their real names, and they still wouldn’t have heard them.  

A while later, Ichabod sat on the bed reliving he and Abbie’s near kiss as he waited for her to finish dressing for dinner. In that moment it was clear to him that had he kissed her, she would have kissed him back, and that realization seemed to change everything. Before his fascination with her was relegated to the confines of his head, but now, she knew, and he knew she did. Further, today in the boat he saw the same adoration he had so long felt for her, reflected back at him. In the interest of time, they had boarded a trolley back with the Chambers who were quite disposed to blathering about every detail of their day. On the ride home Abbie had conversed politely with them, but even through her smile, Ichabod could detect a certain sadness behind her eyes that wasn’t there before, he worried he had pushed her too far. When they arrived back at their room, she seemed withdrawn, unwilling to so much as look at him. She’d gone directly into the restroom to bathe, and hadn’t returned.

Abbie’s mind was spinning out of control. Her mind, body, and spirit were overwrought with emotion, and the only thing she knew for certain, was that they needed to keep moving. To keep it moving. So that’s what she did. _Nothing happened_ she kept telling herself as she sat in the bath. She picked up the wash cloth and squeezed it over her shoulder allowing the hot water to trickle down her back. She let out a frustrated sigh, pulled her knees up, and hugged them tightly against her chest searching for some semblance of comfort.

Ichabod made short work of his suit and tie, and wondered anxiously what could be keeping Abbie. He worried that their intimate moment on the boat would cause a divide between them. He wanted to talk about it, clearly she didn’t, and he couldn’t force her. He glanced up to see the door knob began to twist, and out she came. His eyes locked on her and he found it nearly impossible to look away. Though he loved most the way she looked on the occasions when they were just home watching television, the vision standing before him was a most welcome deviation. Abbie, on the other hand, could never prepare for the way she felt when he looked at her that way. It was foreign to her, allowing another’s viewpoint of her to sway the way she felt about herself one way or the other. But here he was again, looking at her as if she were the sun, and the moon all rolled into one. And there she stood simultaneously blooming and wilting under the heat of his gaze. Her hair was straightened, and nicely styled in loose flowing waves. Her eyes stood out to him, because her lashes somehow appeared longer and thicker than they already were, while her supple lips were just barely dusted over with a warm hue of pink. She wore a black, knee length v-neck dress that followed closely along the peaks and valleys, dip, and turns of her figure. He was awestruck, and completely lost for words.

Abbie stood there with her heels lifting her 4 inches off of the ground, but they way he looked at her made her feel like she was floating. “You look nice” she said breaking the silence.

“Oh, thank you” Ichabod replied glancing down at his attire, before quickly returning his eyes to her. “You’re stunning,” he said softly.

_Okay this is weird and uncomfortable, and ridiculous. Look at him he doesn’t know what to do, or probably what he’s feeling. We’re playing the happy couple, and he just got caught up in it, and of course I didn’t realize anything because I’ve been feeling this way all along._

“Thanks, well with any luck we’ll be out of here by nightfall.” She smiled awkwardly.

“Yes” he said his face mirroring hers. He held his hand out towards the door. “Shall we?”

Abbie started walking towards the door then abruptly turned around to face him. “This is” she let out an exasperated sigh, while deciding how to say what she wanted to.

“This is crazy. We have been together… all the time whether we’re working or not. All those hours, and then we,” she took a breath, “We never get to see other people. Then we come here and we’ve been doing what we had to do to help Katrina, and, you know, all of that touching and holding hands, I think that’s what happened.” She reasoned.

“I’m not certain, I follow.”

“I mean with, when we almost…” She struggled to find the right words. She shut her eyes tightly and settled upon. “The stuff that happened on the boat.”

“Oh” Ichabod responded trying to mask his surprise, and delight at her willingness to speak about it. “Oh” he said once more when he fully understood her meaning.

“So it is your opinion that the moment we shared was due to our portrayal of husband and wife” His voice sounded deeper than usual.

“Exactly, and now, things are weird because there’s been like this blurring of lines. I think the sooner we’re done with this whole thing, the sooner things will be normal between us again, and we can go back to being ourselves. Don’t you agree?”

_Absolutely not._ He thought. _But you have made it clear that this charade we’ve been conducting, as well as your lack of superior company, is what guided your actions today. And though I wish it were not the case, it is._

Ichabod offered a weak grin “Yes Miss” he shook his head.“I mean Audrina, I agree.”

Abbie smiled as brightly as she could even though she felt as though she’d been kicked in the chest. “Good. Glad we got that cleared up. Well we can just…go back to being us, at least when we’re alone.” She said playing punching him in the arm. _Oh God that was weird, can you just act like a regular earthling for two fucking seconds please._

“Certainly” Ichabod said lightly caressing his arm where she’d struck him. “Shall we”, he extended his hand to her.

Abbie took his hand but immediately let it go.

“You know, I think we can ease up on the hand holding, and cuddling, and….pretty much all the physical contact.” She stated, her words picking up speed at the end of her sentence.

“Oh” Ichabod said curiously, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Well I think we’ve done a good job, everyone here thinks we’re married you know so…..we’ve done our job.”

“No further explanation is required, I understand totally.” Abbie swore she heard a hint of disappointment in his voice, but proceeded down for dinner.

Dinner was delicious but uneventful, and surprisingly bordering on the edge of boring. The conversation was monopolized by Mr. Chambers who spoke aimlessly about his thrilling career as a curator at an art museum. Of course he only worked in the spirit of community as his parents had left him a hefty fortune and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. When Chelsea and Peter went to retrieve the treasures they had no idea the Ichabod was following stealthily behind them. They walked down a long hallway, and he ducked into the room directly beside the one they entered. Technically all he needed was the location, and Abbie would do the rest. He started to rejoin the party, but paused as he overheard them talking.

“You’ve got it all wrong, don’t you see the way he looks at her. Besides we’ve been in their company all of three hours, how can you suppose anything about them?”

“I’m telling you, it’s a marriage of convenience, I can spot it from a mile away. They said they’ve only been married a year, don’t you remember our first our first year of marriage Chelse, I couldn’t keep my hands off of you, still can’t.” Ichabod listened as laughter rang out form the other room.

“Honey stop, we have guests that we need to get back to. But for the record you’re wrong about that couple.”

“Oh yeah, how about we make a little wager?

“Owww, that depends, what’s your wager?” He heard Chelsea say.

“If I’m right you have to do whatever I want, and if you’re right, which you aren’t, I’ll do whatever…you…please.”

“Sounds interesting but we’ve got one small problem.” Chelsea stated.

“What’s that” he asked.

“How are we ever to determine who’s right and who’s wrong.” She asked.

“Hmm… We’ll watch.”

“What?!”

“I’m talking about this evening Chelse, and the next, if there are no signs of affection, genuine affection, a prolonged embrace, kissing, then I’m right. After all, it is their first year of marriage.”

“I’ll take that bet, be ready to pay up.”

 

 

Abbie had just swallowed the last of her wine, when she noticed Ichabod moving towards her.

“My love with such a fine night, would you care join me on the terrace for a spell?”

Abbie took his hand and walked with him out to the balcony.

“Well, did you find it?” she asked, her eyes curious.

“I did.” He replied.

She flashed a small smile. “Well that’s wonderful, why do you look so worried. Are you worried about the safe or something, because you shouldn’t be, I haven’t met one I couldn’t crack.”

“Miss Mi” Ichabod glanced around, “I have the utmost confidence in your ability to retrieve the stone. The problem is unless we take drastic measure you will have to do so under excessively watchful eyes.”

Ichabod stood bringing Abbie up to speed on the conversation he’d overheard.

“So they’ll continue to watch us until its proven one way or the other. This is …..ridiculous.”

“Yes, the notion that such a thing can be determined from outside observation is madness.”

“And yet” Abbie slightly tilted her head towards the glass patio door, through which she could see the outlines of Chelsea and Peter discreetly watching them.

“They will watch our every move unless we prove that they needn’t.” He finished her sentence.

“Okay” she said.

“Okay, what? He asked.

“Okay, come here” She beckoned. She slid her hands up the front of his dinner jacket. “Even with these heels, I’m not tall enough to reach you so…”

“You cannot be serious!” He shout whispered. I cannot allow you to—”

“—Hey” she said softly “I can’t do what I need to with them the two of them hawking our every step, so please shut up, and kiss me.”

Ichabod stood staring at her for a few moments, blinking between thoughts. It proved to be a few moments too long, at least for Abbie’s liking but as soon as she opened her mouth to chastise him his lips fell over hers, literally swallowing the words that were on the tip of her tongue. Ichabod didn’t even try to stifle the moan spread from the back of his throat when their lips collided. Upon hearing and feeling the vibration of it Abbie immediately let out one of her own. He would have eagerly traded every star in the heavens for the woman he held in his arms. The night was quiet and calm, the only noise to be heard was that of their lips, sucking and smacking together. The heat of it seemed to seep deep into Abbie’s soul, as his fingertips dusted the skin on the nape of her neck. His strong hands instinctively found her waste and pulled her closer to him, increasing the prickly feeling she felt moving through her body. When she broke away for air, he followed up with a series soft kisses along her cheeks and the corners of her mouth. Her eyes remained closed enjoying the feel of his warm breath against her cheek as both of them stood fighting to breathe though the electricity in the air. Her head hung forward as she gathered her breath, saddening him a little because it deprived him the view of her beautiful face. He slid his finger under her chin, and raised her eyes to his. They looked into one another’s eyes, both of them taking note of all the warning signs along this path they found themselves on, Stop, Danger Ahead, Wrong Way, Turn Back….and ignoring them completely. He angled his head and came back to taste more of her, but this time it wasn’t quick, or test-like, it was slow and he was fully aware. He was aware that she had the softest lips that he’d ever felt, and that the shape of the bottom one was optimum for sucking and nibbling. He was aware of the soft silky feel of her skin as it lay beneath his fingers.   Most regrettable he was aware of a bittersweet pain clenching the center of his chest, and the realization that his heart was hers and she could wholly undo him if she so chose.

He took his time with her, slipping his tongue between her lips, feeling her gently shudder as it brushed against hers. He encapsulated her frame in his arms, holding her as tightly against his body as he could. Abbie’s hands had been resting upon his chest offering a slight protection, and aimed at keeping just enough distance between the two of them. The longer he kissed her, the more her hands, and correspondingly defenses came down. Finally the fingers that once pressed against his chest eagerly gripped his shoulders. She moaned as she allowed herself to fully indulge in her feelings for him, in tasting him, trusting him. A few moments later she felt a familiar craving in the pit of her belly, and a wetness seep into her panties   He’d imagined this moment many times before but all of those musings paled in comparison to the actual event. Every cell in his body was awakened as his tongue delicately braised hers, and she suckled him with those luscious lips. He had no desire to stop kissing her, he couldn’t imagine how he ever would.

“Hey” she said faintly, her hands once again coming between them, and pressing gently against his chest.

“Hmm” he hummed, once again sprinkling kisses against her the corners of her mouth before rejoining their lips. Abbie hungrily acquiesced, forgetting all about what she wanted to tell him in the first place. She was absolutely mesmerized by the feel of his fingers around her waist, her belly twitching as his firm thumb slid across it. That’s when she felt him something else pressing firmly against her. She let out a soft moan which only caused his cock to flex against her even more. She knew if she didn’t stop now, there would be no stopping it.

“Alright” Abbie said pulling back gasping for breath.

“Hmm” he bent, humming into her neck. Dragging his lips across it.

“Oh” she moaned, still trying to catch her breath.

“We, mmm…” She shook her head trying to shake off the dizzying effect of his kisses across her neck. “William, William, we umm, I think we can stop now.” The sound of her calling him by another name, brought Ichabod out of his trance. He pulled back looking her in the eyes, but kept his hands around her waist.

“Abbie” he admonished with a low throaty growl, “Say my name.” Her face displayed complete befuddlement, but he kept his gaze, knowing fully that she heard exactly what he asked her to do.

Abbie couldn’t believe her ears, and yet the confusion on her face was as clear as the intent upon his. A million tiny questions flew through her head. _What are we doing? Why are we doing this? Is..this…real?_ She tried in vain to swallow the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. Abbie folded her arm across her chest wrapping her fingers around her upper arm. As vulnerable as she felt just then she would have folded both of her arms across her chest, but Ichabod had wrapped his hand around her other one. She gazed down at their hands joined against her side.

“Icha…” She paused casting her eyes to the side and finally upward as if she were drawing strength from a source above. After a brief moment of quiet she cleared her throat and found the nerve to return her eyes to his. “Ichabod” she said quietly.

Ichabod let out a broken breath, bringing her knuckles to his lips. He shook his head slightly looking at her as if every star he’d ever seen lived in her eyes. Abbie stared back at him, his lips were swollen, his eyelids hung low over his eyes, and she couldn’t remember a time when he looked sexier.

She sighed softly. “We should get back inside.”

“Oh, of course,” He said remembering their mission. He took her by the hand and led her back inside to the party.

 


	12. Almost Doesn't Count

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me all sorts of trouble. I always come back to this chapter and change so much stuff, I am never happy with it, but I hope that you all will be. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! :-) Please forgive any grammatical errors, I try to come back and shore up whatever I miss a few days after posting.

 

 

Abbie waited patiently at the front desk for guest services to give her the card to her hotel room.   Just an hour earlier she’d called, reserved, and paid for what she thought was a double queen, but now she watched as a young man walked around the desk, and whispered something to the lady who was helping her.

“I’m sorry there seems to be some sort of mix up, the only room we have left is a King. If you’d like, I can try to locate a rollaway bed, and I also provide you with a complimentary pass to our breakfast buffet for your inconvenience.”

“That would be fine, thank you.” Abbie responded politely.

“Great.” The lady said smiling cheerfully. That smile was replaced with a frown a mere ten seconds later after she began typing on her computer.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry, it looks like we don’t have any rollaway beds available either. I’m terribly sorry once again, I’ll tell you what, if you’d like, we can get you into the room completely complimentary. I’ll go ahead and refund your card, the funds should be restored in a few days, and this stay will be on us. Also you’re still welcome to the pass for our breakfast buffet.”

_No, fucking, way._ Abbie thought. There was absolutely no way the she and Crane were going to share a bed tonight. They had slept with each other before, but that was before. Before they almost kissed in the boat, before they actually _did_ kiss on the balcony, before she knew firsthand how sweet his lips tasted, and before every muscle in her body ached with a pain that only he seemed able to relieve.

“No that isn’t going to work, you said that you had a double room available, I booked a double bed. I would be willing to accept a King, but I need an additional bed.”

‘Yes, I’m sorry Miss Mills,” she said double checking her computer screen.   "It’s telling me that we have one available, but actually, they are all full.”

“Lieutenant the hour is late, and our flight departs early, perhaps we should simply make do.” Before Ichabod could even finish his sentence he recognized the look on Abbie’s face, as he’d seen it plenty of times before. Though he wasn’t certain of its precise meaning he knew it translated roughly to, _‘Who the hell asked you, and please refrain from speaking.’_

Abbie shook her head, trying to bite back her irritation, they were going out of their way to make things right, and that’s all she could ask for, but it simply wasn’t going to work. “Please refund the room, but we’ll have make other arrangements, thank you.” She forced herself to smile, showing there were no hard feelings.

“Lieutenant!”

Ichabod desperately needed to lay down, and rest his troubled head, even though it was one of their most triumphant evenings.   Abbie had managed to slip away and switch the diamond with the fake, while Ichabod kept everyone entertained with stories of lost history. Jenny called approximately twenty minutes after Abbie returned to the group detailing how Abbie’s beloved brother had been involved in a horrific accident, and that she should come to his side immediately. Ichabod watched as Abbie portrayed the loving, worried sister, wondering momentarily if she’d missed her calling. Chelsea and Peter were so upset they offered to schedule their flight out, and shuttle them to the airport, but Ichabod informed them that his sister-in-law was already in the process of making the reservations, and insisted that they take a cab so as not to spoil the evening for the others. They were successful in retrieving the diamond, completely undetected, and now needed only the _Book of Realms_ to rescue Katrina. For that he was unspeakably happy, but another part of him was terribly confounded.

It had been hours since the kiss and he was still unable to shake the feeling of it. He longed to revisit the tender feel of Abbie’s lips, and the joy of holding her in his arms, he didn’t know how he would ever manage, never feeling such joy again. Ichabod brought his fingertips to his lips remembering the way she kissed him, like no one ever had before, like she meant it. Of course she referred to him directly afterward as William, instead of Ichabod, or even Crane, but when he asked her to say his name, the way she looked, the way she said it, took his breath away. A little inkling grabbed him, and held on tightly refusing to let go. He wasn’t sure if it was the hope of unrequited love finally returned, or merely a projection of the feelings he himself was having, but he suspected that she might indeed feel the same. There wasn’t any one thing in particular she had said or done, rather the way she looked at him from time to time. The quiet times when they were alone together on their couch, when his sweats were unknotted, and her hair was tied up, when she held a bowl of popcorn in her lap, and he held her feet in his. It was those moments when her ever-present guard would fail her, and she would gaze upon him as if he were her favorite thing in the world. Whenever she looked at him that way, he noticed.

“Miss Mills, I have no quarrels with sleeping on the floor.”

“No one’s sleeping on the floor. We’re going to the airport, exchanging our tickets, and getting as close to Rhode Island as we possibly can, for as cheap as we possibly can. Maybe this is a sign or something that we’re not supposed to be here, we should keep moving, besides, Jenny’s already set up. We’ve come this far it would be a damn shame to miss out on the book for a couple of hours of sleep.”

Ichabod didn’t agree, but he’d already made his wishes clear, and there was no sense in belaboring the point. In all honesty the thought of sleeping in the same room with Ichabod was the driving force behind her decision to press on. A chair at the airport, a seat on a bumpy bus ride, the sidewalk on a busy street, were all examples of places she would sleep more comfortably than alone in a room with Ichabod Crane. Hell the reason for coming to a hotel in the first place was to get out of having to sleep in the same bed as him. Of course she’d told _him_ that it was to avoid the sticky situation that would ensue if the Roberts figured out that the diamond had been switched, but they both knew the chances of that happening before tomorrow were very slim. She reasoned that while they couldn’t share a bed, a room would be no problem, but now even with him volunteering to sleep on the floor, it didn’t seem like enough distance. Especially with the way he kept looking at her. This constant gaze that fell upon her every time she wasn’t paying attention, or at least when she seemed not to be. His expression indicating that he wanted to say something, but what, he wasn’t quite sure. That was the trouble with being as close as she and Crane were, they could read each other all too well. Little subtleties quietly etched amongst their demeanor, giving voice to words that were never actually spoken. She took some comfort in knowing that he wouldn’t broach the subject of what occurred on the balcony until he was certain of what he wanted to say. That was his way.

Ichabod settled into his seat on an airliner bound for Boston. That was as close to Rhode Island as they could get, on short notice, without spending a small fortune. They were fortunate in that there was an empty seat in their row so they had a fair amount of extra room. In retrospect, on the plane ride to Oregon, they were seated next to a chatty older gentlemen, who despite his advanced age seemed to hold a rather obvious fascination with Abbie. Ichabod had noticed but ignored the stolen glances he’d managed whilst she was becoming situated before takeoff. However, when she rose to go to the restroom, his fixation was undeniable. When the old man turned his head back, Ichabod made certain to meet his eyes with a knowing stare. His look wasn’t warning, or even judging, just indicating that he knew. Upon seeing this recognition in Ichabod’s eyes, the old man sought to explain himself a bit.

“Beautiful wife you have there.” He commented glancing down at the band on Ichabod’s finger. Miss Jenny had taken the liberty of procuring wedding bands for both he and Abbie via Amazon. They were quite simple, silver and cheap, totaling just under forty dollars for the set.

“Yes, thank you, she is quite lovely.”

“She reminds a little of my wife Edna, she’s been gone nearly six years now—cancer.” The man’s face dropped a little, and Ichabod immediately felt a sadness for him.

“I am terribly sorry to hear that. Did the two of you have any children?” He asked hoping to push on the conversation to happier subjects.

“Yes, yes we did.” He replied removing his wallet from his inside jacket pocket. We were blessed with three girls, and two boys.” He stated holding the picture out to Ichabod. “Course this picture is quite a bit old, but here is my Edna, our sons Martin, and Edward, and our beautiful daughters, Caroline, Denise, and Dorothy. I’m actually heading out to my granddaughter’s graduation this weekend, it goes by so fast.” He smiled.

Ichabod noticed that his wife was African American, and even though she didn’t look like Abbie, she was very lovely. She did however, like Abbie, appear to be very small in size, and stature. “You have a beautiful family, you must be very proud.”  

“I certainly am. It was hard back then, people weren’t as accepting of a black and white relationship as they are now, but we survived.” He said placing the photo back into his wallet. Ichabod briefly recalled some of the stares that he and Abbie used to receive when they were in public together. He would notice others eye’s upon them quite often at first, and then it all seemed to stop. He wondered if people had actually stopped staring, or if he’d just stopped noticing. Before hearing the gentleman’s story, Ichabod had every intention of insisting that Abbie take the window seat when she returned. She was prepossessing, he knew that, but he didn’t take kindly to men gawking at her, no matter what their age. However, after listening to him for a bit, he decided there was no harm in allowing him the pleasure of Abbie’s company for the remainder of the flight. He was wrong. By the time the flight ended Abbie was complete and totally smitten with him.

That day, Abbie had insisted that he take the window seat, so he could enjoy the view, but now she was adamant that he take the isle seat so he could stretch his legs. They were barely underway when he heard her breathing even out, and knew that she’d soon be sleeping. He leaned his head back against the seat while looking down on her. Since the kiss, she had yet to look him directly in the eye, and he was beginning to wonder if she ever would. He gazed at her for a short while, amazed at how her little tiny body gave up every drop of energy, until she hadn’t an ounce left to give. When that happened it seemed that she could fall asleep almost anywhere, he on the other hand, had a much more difficult time of it. He watched as she rolled her head against the pillow the flight attendant provided fighting to gain a little comfort. Without giving it another thought, he reached over and gently removed the pillow from behind her head, and placed it on his lap. Her eye’s opened, and met his straightaway, for what seemed like the first time in forever. He exhaled at her beauty as he placed a reassuring hand around her shoulder and lightly pulled her head to the pillow. He heard her sigh peacefully as his hand wrapped around her, and fell across her knee.

Ichabod awoke with his head resting on Abbie’s belly, and his arm wrapped around her as if he were drowning, and she was the only life raft out on the open sea. The pillow that had taken up station upon his lap was now lodged between her head and the window. At first, he thought he’d woken on his own, but then he remembered the feel of her tiny fingers ghosting though his head, and her sweet whispers of his name.

“Ichabod…Ichabod, it’s time to wake up.” She whispered softly. It was still give or take thirty minutes to landing, but Abbie didn’t want to risk the flight attendant coming by to wake him. She learned early on that he should be woken in a delicate manner whenever possible. She’d made the mistake of trying to casually wake him once before, and ended up beneath him looking up into to eyes that while were his, held a vacancy she’d never really seen. He didn’t return to her until she managed to pry a hand loose from his grasp, and hold it against his face.

“Crane, it’s me, it’s Abbie…please.” She had pleaded just before he released her. She would never forget the shame and remorse in his eyes when he asked if he’d hurt her, and even though he hadn’t, she could tell that he never fully forgave himself.

Ichabod twisted his head so that his eyes could seek out the owner of the fingers working magic through his mane. He was pleased to find the same eye’s that told him that they needed him, the same ones that called his name after they kissed on the balcony, and the same ones that looked at him as if he were responsible for the creation of all the earth’s oceans, while they sat together on the couch. They were his favorite eyes, and he felt so very fortunate to wake to them. He closed his eyes and gave her one final squeeze, breathing in her scent, before pushing himself up, and returning to a seated position.

“Morning.” She said.

“Good morrow.” He said quietly, unable to look away from her, as he straightened his back. “Miss Mills, forgive me for…if.”

“—Crane.” Abbie said sitting up, “You were only sleeping, resting, it’s no big deal. You looked so uncomfortable last night, I thought you would sleep better this way.” She assured him.

“Yes, thank you, I am indeed well rested, but…Did you rest well? Surely the weight of my body left you in some discomfort, did it not?”

“It didn’t. I slept fine.” She lifted her arms, groaning softly as she pulled herself into a stretch. It was just then that she saw the beginnings of sunrise outside of the window. She turned to Ichabod.

“You have to see this, the sun’s coming up.” She beamed. She stood to switch seats with him, but he insisted that she remain where she was seated so she could enjoy it as well. He slid next to her, and watched over her shoulder. They sat quietly, gazing out of the window, as the boundless rays of light painted the sky.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Abbie said quietly. She wanted to turn and witness his reaction, she could almost imagine it, but his chin was practically resting on her shoulder, and she didn’t want to run the risk of their faces, and more importantly, their lips inadvertently touching. Ichabod pulled his head back from Abbie so he could see her, and only then did she dare to sneak a glance.

“It’s spectacular.” He smiled. Abbie was always lost when he smiled that way, there was something so magical about it, like his eyes could light up an entire room.

An hour later as they were waiting for their rental car to arrive she yawned, shifting her weight, and almost immediately heard his luggage hit the floor beside them. Nearly simultaneously, she felt his strong hand cover her hip from behind.  

“You _are_ still tired. I think it best you sleep for the remainder of our journey, I will see us across the interstate.” He said sliding his hand up to her waist, and pulling her back to rest against him. He wrapped both of his arms around her, as her head held fell back against his chest. He held her this way countless times the day before, in fact, he’d become so accustomed to freely touching her over the past twenty four hours, that he was having a difficult time remembering to stop. Abbie slid her tongue along the inside of her cheek, wondering how he knew just the right way to hold her. Amazed by the way he always paid attention to her needs, there was something so comforting in the way he looked after her.

“I’m fine. We could uh…just stop by a drive thru and grab a cup of coffee, I can drive really.” She said trying to stifle another yawn that had broken loose. She felt his arms tighten around her, his head shifted, and she could see the shadow of him looking down on her.

“It is settled, I shall drive, and you will sleep….understood.” She was silent. “Understood.” He repeated.

“Okay.” She said in a voice much quieter than her own.

They had a routine they kept to every time they went on a road trip. Abbie inspected the car, and checked the fluid levels, while Ichabod cross referenced the GPS directions with a map. However, today, as soon as the car arrived, Ichabod walked Abbie over to the passenger side, and practically lifted her into the seat. He reached down, and reclined her seat, before strapping her in and instructing her to sleep. After checking the fluids, Ichabod shut the hood of the car, and caught a glimpse of Abbie quickly pulling her cell phone from her ear, and feigning sleep. He got in the car, and carried on cross referencing the map with the GPS.

“It appears that it will take us approximately one and one half hours to arrive at our destination, but that you already know, because apparently the route has already been set on the GPS.”

“Hmm, what” Abbie said softly as if she were stirring from sleep.

“I trust Miss Jenny is well.” He added, causing her to laugh softly.

Abbie lifted her seat upright. “I can’t sleep on demand Crane. I tried, I really did.” He faced her smirking, he didn’t know why he was surprised, she absolutely never listened to him.

“Yes she’s good, her and Dunn have things all set up for us. I told her we’re in route.”

“This Dunn fellow…” Ichabod stated a little apprehensively.

“He’s a good guy, we worked together at Sleepy Hollow PD, and then he transferred to the Providence Police Department and worked there for a short while.” She informed him.

“So he previously held employment with the Providence Police Department, was his employment terminated?” Ichabod questioned.

“No, he wasn’t fired Crane, he chose to start his own private detective agency. Don’t worry, I told you he’s a good guy, we’re in very capable hands.” Abbie responded flashing him a reassuring grin.

“I trust your judgment Lieutenant.” Ichabod mustered a weak smile, but Abbie could see the underlay of worry in his eyes. They both knew that rescuing Katrina was a long shot. Even if Pyrion had the Book of Realms, securing it from him would be next to impossible. Even then there was the matter with correctly performing the incantation contained therein. By the time they pulled into the hotel parking ramp Abbie had fallen asleep after all. He shut the engine and looked over at her for a few minutes, before eventually sliding his thumb along her jaw to wake her.  

 

* * *

 

 

 Ichabod stepped into the hotel room shaking hellos with Abbie’s comrade Jonathon Dunn, and his partner Michael Roberts.

“Hey, well if it isn’t the newlyweds!” Jenny smiled removing her headphones, and coming over to greet them. “How was the honeymoon?” She joked.

“You’re so funny.” Abbie said sarcastically pulling her sister into a hug.

Ichabod’s eyes stretched the span of the room, it was moderately sized with a light, neutral tone color scheme. Though he’d only been there a moment, he immediately found it vastly superior to the hotel he had previously lodged in. The attribute he found most pleasing was a large window that spanned the width of the room, allowing its inhabitants to look out upon the cities beautiful skyline. Ichabod found it strange that Jonathon (or rather John as he had urged him to call him) had a head of silver hair though he appeared a mere ten years older than he was. John stood a few inches shorter than Ichabod, while his partner Michael, towered well above the both of them. He was a muscular strapping young man with hair of such a darkened brown that it appeared black. He didn’t speak much, though he offered a slight grin to Abbie, and nodded his introduction to Ichabod. Abbie watched as he ran a backwards hand through his slightly waved locks revealing the most hauntingly beautiful hazel eyes. After Michael returned to his makeshift workstation, John quietly explained that he had a terrible stutter and often refrained from conversing.

“Oh.” Abbie sighed as her eyes filled with compassion.

Her warm expression reminded John why he’d always been a bit jealous of Michael.   Even though he could sooner fly around the moon than string two intelligible sentences together, women always preferred him.

“So what do we have here?” Abbie asked motioning towards the surveillance equipment that Michael and Jenny had resumed working on.

“Oh here take a look” John said beckoning Abbie over to the window and handing her a pair of binoculars. They had a clear view inside of a fair amount of the Antique shop that Pyrion owned.

“We’ve got ears in there, but only on the main floor, I sent someone in yesterday to drop a bug.”

“Great work, I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you” Abbie said

“Un uh, this is on me, I owe you, remember.” Abbie pulled the binoculars from her eyes, casting a reprimanding glare at John.

“Given the opportunity, you would have done the same thing.” She answered.

Things were quiet for the first few hours, and Abbie was starting to get anxious, especially since Jenny and John had informed her that there was no mention of the book yesterday. But, just after Jenny went out for sandwiches things started to pick up. While looking through the binoculars Abbie could see a middle aged man of medium build with light blonde hair. He appeared to be roughly around Ichabod’s height but it was difficult to gage. He sat on the edge of a desk talking to a gorgeous brunette, whose folded arms indicated she was not happy with whatever he was telling her.

“Is that our guy?” Abbie questioned turning to John.

“That’s him. Providence Police Department has been trying to get something on this guy for a long time now, hell even back when I was on the force, but he always seemed to stay a few steps ahead. His shop was raided before but he was able to account for every single nickel, something just doesn’t add up.”

“Hmm, and the girl?” Abbie quizzed.

“I think an employee, or lover, maybe both. All I know is he has a wife and three kids, and that ain’t her.” John stated holding up a folder with a picture of Pyrion and his family.

Abbie looked back through the binoculars only to find what at first appeared to be a disagreement had ballooned into a full blown shouting match. A wide sweeping grin crept across her face.

“Looks like there’s trouble in paradise.” she said handing the binoculars to Ichabod. He pulled them to his face and squinted through the metal lenses. “Trouble indeed—but wait, he’s, they’re.” Ichabod returned the binoculars to Abbie, as deep blush crept across his face.

“What?! Abbie exclaimed. She hurriedly resumed viewing. “You have got to be kidding me, two seconds ago they were at each other’s’ throats.”

“Well technically they still are” Ichabod interjected cheekily.

Bb—b—b” Michael took a deep breath, “Busy guy”

“L—look.” He rewound video footage earlier of Pyrion kissing a red head before the woman he was with now arrived.

“Hmm I presume that is his wife.” Ichabod offered.

“Nope” John said referencing Pyrion’s family photo, “Different woman, even if the hair was dyed.”

“L—l—listen.” Michael said.

“They’re making a call” John observed. “Oh they’re just placing an order for takeout.” He stated after listening through the headphones.

Ichabod looked through the binoculars and could see the brunette from earlier gathering her purse. He handed the binoculars back to Abbie.

Abbie raked her bottom lip under her teeth as Ichabod watched an expression he knew all too well develop. “I’ve got an idea, are you wire capable.” She asked Dunn.

“Of course” he responded.

“Great, get one ready.” She checked her watch. “I don’t have time to explain everything, but I need a pair of scissors, and Crane can you try Jenny and ask her to hurry back.” Abbie grabbed her bag and headed towards the bathroom.

“Miss Mills?” Abbie could already tell from the tone in his voice that Ichabod was apprehensive about her idea without even hearing it.

“Don’t worry Crane, I’m going to fill you in on everything in just a minute.” She said closing the door behind her.

Abbie stood in the bathroom examining the outfit she’d just assembled. She was wearing a pair of light blue jean short shorts she had freshly cut off. She noticed that both women in the video were wearing barely there skirts, and she didn’t have anything that short in her bag, or her closet, to be perfectly honest. The shorts were cut so high that the pockets hung out of the bottoms of the front while the back barely fell below her bottom.   She had drug the scissors across the bottom in order to fringe out the jean material. Her white, soft cotton, form fitting t-shirt, was tied high and to the side in order to reveal her midriff.   After looking down at her feet, she decided upon her wedges.

Ichabod stood in the living area talking with John as he waited for Abbie to return from the restroom. John had just informed him that Abbie had once saved his life when they worked together in Sleepy Hollow. They were engaged in a shootout with robbery suspects when one of them somehow breached the stronghold they had in place. He was in the process of reloading his artillery when he saw the criminal approaching.

“Everything was happening so fast I didn’t have time to do anything, so when I heard the shot I thought I was dead. Then the guy just keeled over, and I looked behind me, and there was Mills. A rookie. Never in a million years would I have thought a rookie would save my life, but she did.” He recounted smiling.

“She has a knack for that sort of thing, she’s saved me on numerous occasions as well.”

“Oh yeah, how so?” John inquired. Ichabod was in the process of formulating a response that didn’t reveal too much of he and Abbie’s affairs when she emerged from the restroom, and he completely lost track of what they were speaking about. His eyes slowly traveled the length of her from her toes to the top of her head. The soft brown skin on her legs radiated in the sun filled room, she was practically glowing. He quickly averted his eyes but not before noticing the ample curves of her thighs and hips that appeared to be practically bursting from grips of her shorts. Her stomach was flat and chiseled, but his eyes gravitated toward her shapely breast stretching out of her shirt.   His face instantly reddened as he fixed his eyes upon the floor. He tried to hide his agitation upon realizing that her change in wardrobe had not gone unnoticed by the other men in the room.

“Miss Mills, do you think it wise—”

“I’m going to stop you right there. We need the book, this is the best way that I can think to get it.” Abbie said going through her purse in search of her lipstick.

Ichabod pulled his gaze away from the floor and brought it to meet hers “Funny I can think of a million better ways to acquire the book then your…your…seducing him.” The words came out more bitterly than he had heard them in his head. “That is what you plan to do, is it not?”

“Listen it’s like John said he’s been raided before, he walked. We can’t just go in there and bust him because we’ll never get the book. The best way to find out about his private dealings, and thus the location of the book, is to turn someone on the inside. We already have evidence of his affair with the redhead, but he’s got a mouthpiece, he’s spinster, we need something more. No matter how much she cares for him it would damn near impossible to spin advances toward two women in one day. I’ll try to get him to go for me, the wire will record everything, and if I’m not back in time, John will intercept her when she comes back with the food. We’ll show her video, play her the tape, and hopefully she’ll be so angry that she’ll tell us what we need to know.”

“That is positively ridiculous” Ichabod scoffed.

“Actually, it’s not that bad an idea, I think it has a shot of working.” John disagreed. Ichabod glared at him before returning his attention to Abbie.

“Fine, I can see there is no reasoning with you, shall we take our leave?”

“Uhh we?” Abbie questioned.

Ichabod could no longer hide his irritation. “If you presume for even one moment that I would allow you to enter that establishment unaccompanied, dressed as you are no less, then you’ve gone mad. I will not risk…” his gaze fell momentarily before returning with freshened resolve, he quickly closed the space between them and spoke slow and steady “You shall sooner see me buried.”

“I’m sorry I completely stopped listening after allow.” Abbie laughed, but then stifled it when she saw the concern in his eyes. She reassuringly placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Crane, I’m a cop, everything’s a risk, but this is what I do. We need the book, I’m our best chance at getting it, and I’m actually not going in there alone, God’s coming with me, and so is my gun.”

“As am I, together, or not at all, those are the conditions.” He proclaimed.

“Ugh! I give in! You’re right.” Abbie walked over to the closet and withdrew her backpack “Here you’re going to need a gun.”

A look of relief covered Ichabod’s face as he strode towards Abbie, he was delighted that she had come to her senses. He held out his hand to receive the firearm, but was surprised by the abrupt clamping of steel around his wrist. Confusion spread across his face, “What are you?”, before he could even finish the question, he had deciphered the answer as Abbie quickly fastened the other end of the cuff to a steel beam in front of the closet.

“Lieutenant!” He belted sharply trying to shake his wrist free of the cuff. Abbie grabbed her purse and headed toward the door ignoring his thrashing about and pleas.

“Lieutenant!” Ichabod exclaimed, I beg you, do not do this! Suddenly, she turned on her heel and headed back in his direction, his tightened face relaxed as she neared. ‘ _Thank heavens_ ’ he thought, but no sooner did the thought cross his mind than he realized she did not come back to free him, but rather to retrieve a vile of lipstick she had dropped. She applied it swiftly using a mirror hanging next to the bed.

“Be back in a jiffy, she said tossing Dunn the key to the handcuffs, don’t let him out.” Abbie opened the door to find Jenny standing pluck in front of her carrying the sandwiches. She let out a startled gasp,

“Oh good, you’re back.”

“I am.” Jenny gave Abbie a once over “So are you going to change you name to Diamond, or Jade?”

Abbie laughed. “Actually, I was thinking Cinnamon.” Abbie could see Jenny’s eyes grow concerned due to Ichabod’s incessant yelling which now was feathered with cries of “Miss Jenny, is that you, I am being unduly detained.” Abbie dismissively shook her head, “We have to go, I’ll explain on the way.” She said taking the sandwiches, and placing them on the table.

Once outside, Abbie spoke into the wire fitted just under her bra. After being reassured that it was working properly, she and Jenny walked confidently in the Antique shop. They were greeted almost immediately by a stocky man of average height. His words were pleasant and welcoming, but there was something about him that made Abbie feel uneasy. She always believed that people could say and do all sorts of things to disguise who they were, but if you paid attention, their eyes would never mislead you. She smiled at him warmly and affirmed that they were just browsing. The décor was beautiful, bucolic with wide windows stretching the entire front of the store. It was riddled with gorgeous pieces spanning various time periods, Abbie felt a pang of guilt that Ichabod wasn’t there to see it as he surely would have appreciated it. After a few moments Pyrion surfaced from the back room and started discussing something with the man at the register. Abbie leaned her face over a glass display case faking interest in the jewelry it held. She made sure to arch her back so that the bottom of her cheeks would slip just out of her shorts. Just when she began to worry that her plan was a bust she heard footsteps behind her.

“Hello, can I help you find something today.” Abbie turned to see Pyrion standing to the side of her.

“Oh, hi I was just admiring some of your necklaces. You all have really beautiful jewelry.” she gushed.

“Thank you, but I hope you forgive me for saying, we have nothing quite as beautiful as you.”

“That didn’t sound like anything you needed forgiving.” She replied slowly batting her lashes.

“I haven’t seen you around here before are you passing through or”

“We’re actually new to town, my sister and I” she said motioning in Jenny’s direction. She was just accepted into Brown, and I couldn’t bear to be separated from her, so here we are.”

“Really well that’s fantastic, welcome.” he extended his hand.

“Grace” Abbie said shaking his hand.

What a lovely name, I’m Pyrion the owner of this little shop.” He bragged. Where abouts are you all from?”

“Chicago, Illinois.” She smiled.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been there a few times, you girls are quite a ways from home.” Abbie stood chatting and lightly flirting with Pyrion for the next five minutes. She made certain to smile often, and laugh at all of his jokes. She straddled the fine line of appearing interested, but not desperate. Jenny who’s been occupying herself with looking at some antique guns, makes eye contact with Abbie letting her know that they’re running out of time. Abbie begins winding the conversation down, uncertain whether or not Pyrion had any interest in her, but when she tries to excuse herself he steps forward.

Well listen I know how difficult it can be starting out in a new town, not knowing anyone and all.” He pulled a business card off the display case, and began writing on it. “This is my direct line, if you need anything, someone to show you around, or just someone to talk to, please call.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” Abbie said accepting the card.

“So which one did you like” he asked pointing at the necklaces.

“Oh I love that cameo there with the lavender background, but I was just browsing today, with getting settled and all I’m trying to get a feel for my living expenses here.”

“That’s a beautiful piece, it’s yours, consider it a house-warming gift.”

“Excuse me.” Abbie questioned seriously surprised, the item was clearly marked one-thousand plus dollars, and the idea a someone giving such a gift to a complete stranger was baffling to her. While she was busy protesting Pyrion had one of his employees start boxing the item up.  

“Listen, can I be honest with you?” he asked.

“Sure, but I don’t think there’s anything you can say to make me change my mind, it’s a gorgeous necklace but….”

“—I never do this. I don’t go giving away merchandise to beautiful women who walk through those doors, and make no mistake, you are…beautiful. You don’t owe me anything for the necklace, it’s yours free and clear, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see you again. The way I’m thinking, this can play out one of two ways. At best, I’m hoping that when you wear the necklace, it will remind you of me, and maybe you’ll want to see me as well, say this Saturday at seven o’clock, at Chattuea Maires. At worst, I figure that you’ll wear it looking every bit as beautiful as you do right now, and people will inquire where you got it, and you’ll send them here.   I have a feeling that one of these outcomes will cost me a lot of money, while the other will make me a fair amount, given the choice, I would rather spend.”

_Wow does that lame shit really work for you, ugh it must if you’re still doing it_. She thought. Abbie wanted nothing more than to laugh at him, but it was clear that he was dead serious so she played the part.

She smiled seductively at him, “Well in that case I guess I’ll see you Saturday.” She flirted.

“Perfect” he agreed his letting his eyes trail over her so slowly it made her skin crawl.   “Also, Chatteau Maires is a bit upscale.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card. “Ask for Marie, tell her to put the gown of your choosing on my account, she can call me if she has any questions.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say, thank you.” _‘You really expect me to sleep with you for a necklace and a dress. Hello, do I look like a whore? Oh wait, dammit I do._ She inwardly cringed.

“No thanks necessary your smile has brightened my day, I look forward to seeing it again Saturday.”

Abbie took her gift bag from his employee, and wrangled Jenny before heading out of the door. So far this plan was working far better than she thought plan b would have, which was essentially to go in guns blazing. Though she was happy that she got what she came for, worrying about how to smooth things over with Crane made the short walk seem long.   As soon as she and Jenny entered the hotel room, Dunn congratulated her on a successful mission.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come over and work with me, damn you’re good.” Abbie is appreciative of the praise, but she’s far more concerned with the silent man across the room whose eyes are boring holes into the side of her head. She discreetly gets the handcuff keys from Dunn, who informs her that Ichabod quieted down as soon as he was told his protesting was making it impossible to hear her, and in doing so compromising her safety. Abbie walks over to Crane dropping her head to the ground, unable to withstand the look of betrayal present in his eyes. She would gladly accept anger or basically any other emotion than the one she saw emanating from his face.

Ichabod watched as Abbie braced herself against the metal pole and released his wrist from the cuffs. He had been praying tirelessly for her safe return, and was beyond grateful that she came back unharmed, but he was absolutely furious with her. He rubbed his wrists where the cuffs had dug too deeply into his skin when he attempted to break free. Without uttering a word he walked over to the bathroom and opened the door, he looked straight ahead waiting patiently for Abbie to enter.

“Will you keep an eye out for Lorraine?” She said quietly to Dunn and walked into the bathroom without waiting to hear his reply.   Abbie expected for Ichabod to go up one side of her and down the other as soon as the door shut, but what she wasn’t prepared for was the unabated silence and empty expression on his face. She stood with her arms folded across her chest, staring sideways at his reflection in the mirror as if it was somehow easier than looking directly at him. And it was, at least until she caught a glimpse of herself and how fearful, and child-like she looked standing there.   She gathered her strength and cast her eyes up to his.

“Okay so I guess I’m going first”, she said unfolding her arms. “Listen I could say I’m sorry….and I will, I’ll say whatever I need to say so that you stop looking at me like that, I mean _Crane_ , come on.” She winced, as if his stare actually caused her physical pain.

“I’d be lying though, I’m not sorry, and if I had it to do over again, I would. You need Katrina, and I understand that, so naturally I would do anything I can to help you. I’m a police officer, a damn good and highly capable police officer.” Her tone strengthened as she remembered who she was.

“I devised a plan wherein I had to go undercover and you would have blown my cover.” She slapped the back of her right hand into her left palm. “I did what I had to do, as your partner.” Ichabod threw his head back and offered a joyless laugh.

“Partner…partner. I find it rather funny that you use that particular term because a partner is one who takes _part_ in an undertaking _with_ another, there is a shared gain, and _risk_. How are we presumed to be partners when you took all of the risk, and completely shut me out of the plan?” Abbie started to answer but he held his hand up making clear that he was not soliciting one.

“Further you leave me imprisoned, like a common _criminal_ , trapped inside of a room with men I’ve only just met.” He sneered as his nostrils flared.

“I already told you, Dunn’s a good guy I know him.”

“I don’t know him Abbie, the only person I really know is you, and I’m beginning to question THAT!” He yelled. O _h. He. Is. Mad. As. Hell._ Ichabod never screamed, or spoke to her harshly, it was only the second time he ever had, the first was when she tried to dissuade him from interrogating the horseman.His voice was loud and thunderous, and caught her completely off guard, causing her to jump a little. She re-folded her arms across her chest as if she they would somehow offer her protection from the ensuing tirade. She began to re-think her previous conception, she was now certain that she preferred the empty stare to anger. Ichabod immediately regretted losing control of his emotions, a regrettable condition that she always seemed to bring forth. He tried to lower his voice.

“Did you even once stop to consider what would happen, how I would feel, if you met harm…..if you were killed.”

_He’s upset I should just listen to him, and let him get it out but this is outrageous, I’m not some little girl, I’m a trained police officer._ “Killed? C’mon seriously.” She retorted.

“Did you not recall what Seamus warned us of before we embarked on our journey? I recall it clearly, in fact it’s the only thing I could think of the ENTIRE TIME YOU WERE THERE!” He hollered. By this time everyone in the hotel room had completely stopped going about their duties, not even bothering to pretend they couldn’t hear everything being said in the bathroom.

When Dunn started to make sure everything was okay, Jenny rose from the foot of the bed to stop him. “They’re fine, they’ll work it out.”

Abbie prided herself on keeping her cool, hell she was trained to deescalate heated situations, not inflame them. Part of the reason she was such an excellent cop was her ability to remain calm and level headed in highly pressurized atmospheres, but the man before her had an uncanny ability to draw her out of herself. Before she even realized it, she was screaming at him.

“Fine I’m sorry…is that what you need to hear!? I’M SORRY okay…I’m sorry for flying all the way out to the west coast, and pretending to be your _adoring wife_ , in order to steal a crystal from a couple who, despite their criminal activity, seemed like VERY NICE PEOPLE, only to forgo sleep so we could arrive here at the butt crack of dawn, just so I can sit in a hotel room spying, and trying to figure out a way to con A CONMAN. I’m sorry for cutting up a perfectly good pair of _grossly_ overpriced jeans so that I could pose as a floozy, and get hit on by a sleaze-ball, who by my approximation, had roughly eight hairs in his ponytail, but most of all I’m sorry that care enough about you and _your_ happiness to do it. All. Over. AGAIN” She screamed holding both fists clenched at her sides.

“Ugh” Ichabod scoffed dismissively. “If you truly cared about my happiness then you would have never put yourself in harms way. I understand that you have grown in this age where words carry very little meaning, their intent and purpose are subdued, or forgotten as soon as the slip from one’s lips, _or shall I say_ the tips of one’s fingers” Abbie rolled her eyes bracing for another lecture on modern day incivility. “But I hail from a time when one’s word meant something. I told you that I would sooner die than see you go knowingly into danger, on my behalf no less _,_ unaccompanied, and that is precisely what I meant.”  

Abbie shook her head and rested her palms on the bathroom counter. “I’m over it, I’m just….over it, I was only trying to help, I don’t know what more I could say….but for the record.”

Her voice starts to crack from all of the yelling, and Ichabod instantly worries that she’s in tears until her eyes meet his and he realizes she is not. Still, hearing this makes him appreciate how fortunate it is that neither has said anything that they will regret, and he seeks to end the argument before they do.

“–Abbie.”

She holds her index finger up and closes the space between them until they’re standing face to chest. Her head is tilted all the way up. “No n-no you spoke, I listened, it’s _my_ turn.” She said pointing down towards her shoes. “For the record, I’m sorry things didn’t go the way _you_ wanted it to but I was just trying to be helpful.” She says briefly squeezing her eye’s closed.

“—Abbie.” He again attempts to interrupt her, but she over-talks him.”

“Scratch that you know what, I’m not sorry, I take it back, I am un-apologizing.”

“Abbie.”

“Because I was just trying to support you, I was only trying to be a good friend, and help _you_ reunite with the WOMAN YOU LOVE!” She screamed.

Before he could stop himself Ichabod grabbed her elbows and pulled her up until she was inches from her face. “ABBIE YOU _ARE_ THE WOMAN I…!  

He gasped and drew in a heavy breath. He was so beside himself he didn’t fully understand what he had almost said out loud until he saw the look of astonishment on her face. He slowly released her from his now clammy grip, and stepped backward until he felt the wall against his back. The two of them just stood there like deer in headlights, unable to break their gaze from one another. The bathroom that once seemed large and amply spaced, now felt more like a tiny broom closet. Worse, it felt as though all of the air had immediately been sucked out of the room. Abbie looked up at him, and wondered if he could tell how badly she was trembling. The way he looked at her, the intensity in his eyes still hanging between them. She heard what he said, or rather what he didn’t say, but nonetheless she heard him. It was a strange moment, one in which she simultaneously felt overjoyed and sick to her stomach. She opened her mouth to speak but there was mutiny between her brain and her heart, and her vocal cords seemed to be caught in the middle of it. So her mouth hung open ready and willing to perform its given task, but not a peep came out. Abbie closed her mouth and decided to try again, but there was a knock at the door.

“Bells, her car just pulled in down the street, you better get out here.”

She cleared her throat never taking her eyes from Ichabod. She wanted to tell him, to let him know everything she’d been feeling for him.

“Just one moment.” She called towards the direction of the door, before returning her eyes to him.

He hated seeing the confusion on her face, certain it undoubtedly resembled his own. This was unchartered territory for him on so many levels. First of all, one of his staunchest rules was to think before speaking, and he adhered to it without fail, unless he was speaking with Abbie, then all of his rules went out of the window. Ichabod stood searching for a way out of the terribly uncomfortable situation his mouth had gotten him into. There was so much he longed to tell her, things she had every right to hear, but that he had no verifiable right to say. He slowly lifted himself off of the wall.

“We should make haste” he said opening the door to the bathroom.

 

Lorraine was even prettier up close. She had the most beautiful dark brown hair which nearly fell to her waist. Her dark blue mini dress gave away everything she was working with, but hell at least it wasn’t boring, and Abbie found it to be a nice complement to her soft gray eyes. She was a little hesitant to come up to a hotel room with a strange woman she had never met, but she seemed slightly more comfortable after Abbie showed her badge, and a screencap of Pyrion kissing the redhead. Abbie had assured her she wasn’t under arrest she just wanted to ask her a couple of questions and in exchange she could show her a little more about Pyrion’s activities with other women. It proved to be an offer she couldn’t resist. After making brief introductions of the others in the room Abbie got down to business, everything was riding on this, if she failed to flip her it was over. Lorraine was quiet and somewhat despondent after seeing the video of Pyrion, and the redhead making out in his office.  

She shook her head, “I always knew there were other women, but it’s just weird actually seeing it. He’s very crafty that way you know.” She spoke softly. “So this is red, at least that’s what I call her, do you know her name?” she asked, fingering the screen.

“No, I don’t know anything about her.” Abbie replied.

“She sometimes leaves hairs in the bathroom sink, that’s why I call her red, still I like her better than the last girl, she kept eating all of my grapefruits, I know it wasn’t P because he hates the damn things, I mean the least she could have done is replace them, you know what I mean. ”

“Yeah, I know just what you mean.” Abbie said exchanging alarmed glances with Jenny. She stood and wrapped her hand around her neck. _Shit she knows he’s cheating, and still she stays with him, we’re fucked. She thought._ “So you two live together I was under the impression that he was married, is he separated, or divorced?” Abbie prodded.

“Oh no, P doesn’t believe in divorce, but he only sleeps at home two to three times a week. His tells his wife that he spends most nights at the shop because of work, but I’m certain she knows the truth.” Lorraine confided. Jenny’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling as she bit back a laugh.

“Lorraine, I’m going to be honest with you, you seem like a…kind woman. Do you know of any business that Pyrion conducts aside from antique dealings? We have reason to believe that he comes into possession of artifacts that are acquired in, how should I put this, in a less than legal fashion. One of those items we believe him to be in possession of now could help to save the life of a very dear friend.” Abbie stated. Lorraine looked around the room as if she were pondering something.

“Is this off the record?” She asked.

“Yes all of this is off the record, I’m just trying to help a friend.” Abbie reassured her.

“I don’t know of any illegal dealings, I know that there are some items he’s more guarded about, and some of them are brought in with security, but that all seems normal in his line of work. I’m sorry about your friend but…P’s the only person in the world who really cares about me, my folks passed when I was young, and he’s all I’ve got, I really don’t feel it’s appropriate my talking with you about this any longer. Am I free to leave?”

“Of course, this is all on your own volition Lorraine, but…..”

“Yes?” she replied.

“Listen I’m not qualified to be giving anyone relationship advice but, I mean come on, this guy has a wife, a mistress, and a girlfriend, and he’s not even satisfied with that.” Abbie had previously decided not to play Lorraine the audio between she and Pyrion because she knew she would turn a blind eye, and it would only serve to hurt her. But listening to her carry on about how he was the only one who cared for her was practically nauseating.

“Guys like him only care about one thing, and that’s themselves. If he really loved you he would either fully commit himself to you totally, or let you go. What he’s doing is cowardly, and it isn’t fair to you, red, or his wife, but as long as you all allow him to do it, he will.”

Abbie glanced upward to find Ichabod staring right at her, his eyes were fraught with sadness and embarrassment. She could detect that he presumed her sentiment for Pyrion mirrored her estimation of him, and it shattered her. She wanted to go to him and assure him that he had more honor in his pinky finger, than the full body of a thousand Pyrion’s, but this wasn’t the time or the place.

“We’re looking for a book, it’s called The Book of Realms if you see it or hear anything about it, please give me a call,” Abbie handed her a business card, “As I said, it could save a life.”

“I know he has faults, everyone does, but he does _love_ me, so I choose to overlook them.” She said standing up. Jenny stood up as well.

“Lorraine wait, look I get what you’re saying, he’s there for you and he can be a nice guy, hell earlier when he tried to get her” she pointed at Abbie “to go on a date with him he”

“—Wait, he tried to hit on you too? Just today?” She questioned Abbie.

“Yeah, he did, I have it on audio if you need to hear it.”

“No, that’s not necessary I believe you, you’re a very pretty girl, just his type. So he invited you on a date?”

“Uh yeah, some place called Chateau Maires, Saturday night, clearly I’m not going.” Abbie said returning her hand to the back of her neck in the hopes of rubbing out the stiffness.

“Well there must be a mix-up because he and I are……supposed to go there on Saturday.” By the time she finished the sentence Lorraine looked like she had been run over by a truck. She cleared her throat “Did he give you a time?”

“Umm yeah actually he did, he said seven o’clock.” The woman eyes filled with tears as she retook her seat at the table.

“We’ve had those reservations for over a month, and he was going to take you instead, someone he just met” he voice grew to a whisper. “You’re sure it was this Saturday at seven o’clock?”  

“I’m afraid so,” Abbie said sympathetically, “He wanted me to have dinner with him in exchange for this cameo necklace he gave me.” Abbie said withdrawing the box from the bag. When she opened it Lorraine broke down in tears. She had asked him on more than one occasion for that particular cameo necklace as it reminded her of one her mother used to wear. On each account he had refused to gift it citing the need for frugality amid the rising cost of his children’s college tuition.

An hour later Abbie had the book and Lorraine was the proud owner of a beautiful cameo necklace with a lavender background. Pyrion had a safe in their apartment where he kept certain lucrative items, the book being one of them, unbeknownst to him, Lorraine had known the combination for over two years. She’d never opened it out of trust and respect for his privacy.   She took the book, and enough of his money to get a fairly comfortable start somewhere that he would never find her.

As soon as John and Michael cleared out Abbie indulged in a relaxing shower. She and Ichabod had already made arrangements to meet with Seamus in the morning so he could perform the ritual.

“What are you doing I thought we were going straight to Seamus’s in the morning.” Abbie said watching as Jenny packed her bag.

“Oh yeah, about that, you guys are going to have to fly solo, I’ve gotta shove off.”

“Jenny!” Abbie said trying to get her attention.

“Remember how I’ve been tracking the Blade of Zyrnthia?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I got a hit on it in New Haven, and I don’t want to miss it again.” She said throwing her bag over her shoulder. In all honesty Jenny had overheard Ichabod nearly declaring his love for Abbie earlier, and thought they could use some time alone.

“But Jenny, just hang on, we’ll come with you. Just wait for Ichabod to finish his shower.”

“Oww, Ich-a-bod, what happened to Crane, or should I say what happened in Oregon?” She teased, causing Abbie to groan.

“Nothing happened.”

Jenny laughed. “I don’t believe that for two seconds, but I’m going to let you fill me in when there’s more time. You be careful, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said hugging her sister.

“Jenny.” Abbie called just as she reached the door. “Blade of Zyrnthia my ass, call me when you get to Frank’s.”

Jenny chuckled as she walked out of the door. “I will.”

Abbie felt a pang of fear as soon as she locked the door behind her sister. She and Ichabod needed to talk, that much was clear, but it didn’t make it any less scary. She sat on the bed pulling her knees up to her chest. She glanced at the bathroom door, remembering the words that the man on the other side of it almost said to her. That she was the women he loved, she could see the beginning of the word when it died on his tongue. _How is that even possible_ , she wondered. Maybe he didn’t mean it in the way it sounded, or maybe he misspoke, and didn’t mean it at all, but maybe, just maybe he did. The door to the bathroom opened and he stepped out of it cloaked in his gray pajama bottoms and a t-shirt.

“Where is Miss Jenny?” He asked looking around.

“She had some business to attend to, she said she’ll catch up with us tomorrow.”

The room seems to grow even quieter as he realizes that they’re alone. Abbie is having a difficult time looking him in the eyes for a duration longer than a few seconds, and an even more difficult time breathing. Everything is made worse by the fact that he’s staring at her intently every time she so much as peeks in his direction. Ichabod keeps mulling over their argument in the bathroom. There was something different in the way she looked at him now. She would never say it, but she knew. This was an area in which he had to lead, she ran, evaded, and hid from this sort of intimacy. But after hearing her summation of Pyrion, he felt like slinking away and hiding himself. She would never have him. He wanted to ask her if she thought him to be similar to Lorraine’s Pyrion, if she thought he sought to place others beside her, and have them share in his affection. He was nothing like Pyrion. Oh, he was a coward in his own right to be sure, but not like him. He didn’t want multiple women, he wanted Abbie. And truthfully, if Abbie ever asked him to leave Katrina, he did not think he would have the strength to stay with her. She ruled him. Here he was, bred from wealth, a very highly educated, captain who had served under the direction of the great General George Washington, thousands of men took orders from him. They. Followed. Him. And he followed her. This tiny slight of a woman, perched along the edge of the bed, ruled his life, and he was powerless to change it.    

“Has our mattress upon wheels yet to arrive?” He asks tucking his used clothing into his luggage. They were once again waiting for a rollaway bed though this time it was less a pressing issue because there was a couch in their room. Abbie was actually shocked to find that it didn’t contain a fold out bed.

“No, not yet.” Abbie looks up noticing that he’s standing apprehensively beside the bed. “Have a seat, it may be a little while yet.”

He prods nervously for a few moments before deciding to sit. “Yes of course.”

She sat there waiting for him. Thinking he would speak, thinking he would say something, but he didn’t, and she couldn’t really decide if she wanted him to. She was so confused, and his silence only made it worse. After a while she reasoned that there really wasn’t anything he could say. She began to consider the possibility that she’d read too much into his unfinished sentence, the same way she did during their argument after Irving’s party. Perhaps he was going to say you are the woman I _am worried about_ , because I need you to win the war, or maybe you are the woman I _am speaking to_ , because she kept bringing up Katrina. Who knew what he was going to say because he simply stopped speaking, but in that moment she knew what she felt. She felt loved. She handed him the remote control. “Here you can look for something, I still have to brush my teeth and take my pills. Don’t forget to keep an ear out for the bed.” She called on her way to the bathroom.

When she emerges, Ichabod is standing in front of the end of the bed staring directly at her, as if he’d been there the entire time, waiting for her arrival.

“I love you.” He declared immediately, so clear and sincerely that she had no cause to question whether or not he believed what he’d just said. The only problem was that she didn’t completely understand what those words meant to him, so she wasn’t certain how to take them.

She took a shuddering breath, turning her eyes up to his. “I”, she paused realizing she needed another breath. “What does that mean?” She asked quietly.

He took a step towards her. “It means that I think of you constantly, even when you are seated directly next to me, and I worry about your well-being even more. It means the most magnificently fascinating place I’ve ever been, is in your arms, and every time I’m there all of time stands still. It means that even though you have the prettiest eyes, mine have ever been so fortunate to cast their gaze upon, I have never witnessed anything more beautiful than when you sing with them closed.” Abbie’s mouth fell open and a soft sigh escaped, tears began to form behind her eyes. Ichabod took another step forward taking her hands in his.

“It means that these hands, these soft, unbelievably tiny hands hold the whole of my heart. I have no recollection of giving it, nor upon your precise retrieval, but it is yours nonetheless. He leaned his forehead against hers “You command it, you….command me,” His voice fell to a soft whisper. “Every single thing about you, all that you do, all that you are, captivates me fully, and I can’t shake it Abbie, I can’t, I love—”

“Please stop” Abbie said softly turning away, her voice shakier than she remembered.

Ichabod’s stomach dropped, and he could feel his cheeks and ears begin to burn. A look of shame crept across his face. “I’ve offended you. You think me similar to Pyrion, but I can assure you I am not.”

Abbie shook her head moving past him until she stood in between the couch and the bed. Ichabod instinctually followed behind her.

“It isn’t that, I know who you are, I know what you are, it’s just….please don’t say it, because if you say it I cannot be responsible for what happens here tonight.” She confessed.

“Oh” he replied trying to subdue a tingle spreading through his body. She brought her eyes to his.

“And Katrina.” Abbie asked. Ichabod hung his head looking towards the corner of the room, not wanting to see her face when he replied.

“I made a vow.”

“Mmm hmm,” Abbie hummed wrapping her arms around her midsection. She takes a few steps to distance herself from him, as he finds a seat on the bed.

“I’m strong.” She says, “I broke my leg when I was eight years old, and didn’t shed one tear. When I get a cut or a scrape I reach for rubbing alcohol even if I have peroxide or Neosporin on hand, I can swim for miles without tiring, and do over a hundred pushups in a row—I am strong……….but I don’t know that I’m strong enough for this…or to _hear_ those words from you.”

He tries to say her name but she cuts him off. “Not because I don’t believe you mean them, because I do, God help me, I do. But I also know you, and I’ve thought about this, more times than I care to admit. And every single time I think about it, no matter how many different ways I try to examine it, it always ends the same, with me getting hurt.”

She edges a few more steps backwards until her legs meet the dresser behind her. “Not because you want to hurt me, but because you’re you.” He can see her eye’s lighting up, even behind the tears that fill them.

“You made a commitment, you’re going to see it through, you won’t leave her, and I wouldn’t want you to. I respect it, I understand it. And I know that you still love her, and I understand that too. You are…getting your wife back, and I am truly happy for you” she adds laying a hand across the center of her chest. “And I want to keep being happy for you, but if you say those words to me… I’m not so sure that I’m capable of doing that. You’re my best friend, do you know how it makes me feel to _think_ that way, to _feel_ that way. I feel like a bad person, and I’ve felt like that before—with Jenny, when I lied, and I never want to feel that way again.”

“Abbie, there is more goodness in you than the lot of this world combined.”

“Really, because I was just thinking about what you said earlier, about how I have your heart. And as beautiful as it is, there’s still a part of me that says I would trade it for what she gets, because she gets you. Right?” Abbie fights to fend off a flurry of tears.

“She gets to have your smile across from her at breakfast every morning, and your arms wrapped around her at night.” Her voice is raw and wavering somewhat uncontrollably, as a few tears roll free, still she struggles on.

“She gets to have you leaving trimmed whiskers all over the bathroom sink, or toast crumbs in the preserves, and approximately one-eighth a cup of orange juice in the frig, because you don’t want to finish it, and you don’t want to waste it, and the myriad of other things you do that I used to hate, but I’ve quietly come to accept and even love, because all of those things are a part of you, and I love all of you.”

She slams her eyes shut. “Oh fuck!” She covers her eyes half in embarrassment from uttering the very words she forbade him from speaking, and half to hide the onslaught of tears that she can no longer ward off.

Ichabod who’s fighting to hold back tears of his own, wastes no time in springing from the bed, and taking her into his arms. He cradles the back of her head with the palm of his hand, and gently rocks her. He wants to tell her that everything will be okay, that he had her, but words fail him. He squeezes her in his arms before gently prying her hands away from her eyes, and holding her wrists at her side. She looks at him, and it nearly kills him to see the sadness in her eyes. Ichabod slowly drags his thumb underneath her right eye to disband a fresh tear. She can see the sorrow in his eyes, but also the helplessness. He leans his head against hers.

Ichabod spoke more quietly than she had ever heard him speak. She quickly realized that this was the way he had to speak in order to keep from crying. “I will do as you command. You said…that I would not leave her. Ask me to, and you shall see.”

Abbie lowered her head and cried quietly into his chest. “I can’t, I can’t do that, to you, to her. I want you…more than I could ever say, but not that way, not like this.” She looked up at him. “I can’t be the reason someone’s marriage falls apart, I don’t want to get in between something like that. Someone did it to my mother, it was crappy, I won’t become that. I need you to try to make it work…with her.”

Ichabod closed his eyes under the weight of her words. “I must tell Katrina how I feel, I cannot…I will not hide these feelings from her. If she chooses to set my declarations aside, and work to salvage our marriage, then I will try as well.” His voice grew quiet. “If you’re sure.” He took a deep breath. “Are you sure?” He asked carefully.

She looked up at him nodding before she found the courage to speak. “Yes.” She cried. Tears fell from Ichabod’s eyes.

“I understand.” He confirmed.

He held her tight, gently rubbing his hand in circles across her back. After a few minutes, Ichabod released Abbie, only to take her hand and lead her to the couch. He took a seat, and held his hand out to her. She stood in front of him with her hands at her side trying to decide whether or not to sit with him.

He looked up at her through watery eyes. “Apple please…please allow me to hold you, just for a little while.”

“Apple? Is that what this is, some kind of attraction to what you’ve been forbidden to have, because if that’s what this is….” She shook her head.

He took her decision away, reaching out and pulling her to his lap, winding his arms around her. “How can you say those things? I wish that even if only for a moment, you could crawl inside of my heart, and see how much you mean to me. I do not crave you, or call you Apple because of some forbidden attraction. I love you, I call you Apple because you _are_ my apple. The only thing which I will willing and knowingly defy God for. Abbie, the only thing that can forbid me from being with you, is you.” He whispered nuzzling his face against hers.

“I do not want to hurt you, I do not want to change you, I just want…you.”

He rested his chin on top of her head, as she nestled in against his neck. He closed his eyes in an effort to beat back the sadness of knowing that this might be all they would ever have. Stolen embraces and pledges of allegiance. She deserved so very much more. After hearing a sigh slip through her beautiful lips, he looked down into her big sad eyes, and couldn’t help but lay a soft kiss against her cheek. He knew he shouldn’t, but it was just one. _Mmm two, in case the other cheek becomes jealous, Mmmm._ Her lips brushed against his cheek, and suddenly he was lost, turning his mouth to take her lips with his. _Just one little taste, Oh dear God._ Abbie tongue slipped inside of Ichabod’s mouth, just as his fingers tightened around her waist. He fought desperately to keep them there. He felt as if something inside of him exploded as he gently sucked her lips. Just when he felt that he was losing control and couldn’t control himself any longer Abbie quickly pulled back and lifted herself from him. Everything happened so quickly, their lips couldn’t have been joined for more than five seconds, but it felt so rivetingly wonderful. Abbie scooted back against the other end of the couch, and wrapped her arms around her knees. For a moment she just sat there staring at him, well not so much him but….Ichabod looked down.

“Oh God.” He said pulling the pillow from behind him. His pajama pants were of no service when it came to hiding an erection.  “You must know that this is not why I brought you to the sofa. I would never deceive you, I wanted only to hold you.”

“I know, I wanted to be held.”

“And I’ve ruined it.”

“No. We’re in this together. What would you say if I told you that I was just as turned on as you are right now.”

“I would say that you have grossly underestimated exactly how turned on I am.” He replied.

“Well I am, you just can’t see it, I mean, at least with my clothes on.” Ichabod groaned, as he mouth went completely dry imagining how wet she was for him.

“I’m..going..to have a shower.” He managed to eek out.

“You just had a shower.” She commented raising an eyebrow.

“I did, and now I’m going to have another, a cold one.” He said as he rose from the sofa.

Abbie laughed softly. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to make you feel better.” Her expression grew serious. “Ichabod.”

“Yes.”

“We can’t do that again. We can’t…kiss, each other.” Her brows furrowed. “It’s too hard.” Ichabod nodded, and headed into the bathroom.

Ichabod stepped into the cold water in search of a renewed sense of clarity. It had been a long day, and there were so many emotions running through him it was hard for him to make sense of them all. On the one hand he was overjoyed, and elated that they were able to acquire everything they needed to free Katrina. The fact that she would no longer be imprisoned in purgatory was everything he’d been hoping and working for. On the other hand he hadn’t imagined things coming to a head the way they did with Abbie. He loved Katrina, he still held a certain affection for her, not only based upon their memories, he also felt it when she came to see him in visions. But Abbie…what he felt for her was greatly surpassed anything he’d ever felt before in his life. What he felt for her, made him rewrite his definition of love. He wasn’t surprised when she told him that he needed to try to work things out with Katrina. He knew her, he knew that’s what she would say even before she said it, but it didn’t hurt any less. Ichabod stepped from the shower toweling himself off, quietly chiding himself for taking things so far on the couch. The depth of his feelings were so far beyond physical, but their lives would be inherently more complicated if he couldn’t learn to temper his physical attraction to her. He came out of the bathroom only to find Abbie sitting on the freshly delivered roll away bed, sipping from a cup of water.

“So, I have a question?”

“You may ask anything, I shall always tell you the truth.” He said taking his bath towel through his hair.

Abbie let out a lengthy sigh. “Why now? Why did you tell me this, literally the night before we’re rescuing Katrina, and how long? How long have you felt…these feelings?”

Ichabod kneeled on his knees in front of her. Somewhere in the midst of things one of his hands had taken up residence on the bed next to her leg, while the other one wrapped around her palm and rested on her knee.

“I have felt these feelings for what seems like forever. The first time I saw you, I felt something. Like I somehow knew you, even though I did not. The night I was kidnapped by the masons in particular, after the sin eater sanctified me. When I look back, that night was when I first felt the beginnings of what I know now is love for you. I have wanted to tell you for so long, but many nights past I had a dream that…I was nearly killed…and the only thoughts that occupied my mind…were those of you. I lay fading rapidly and my regrets begin to settle upon me. High among which, was that I never shared with you, all that are to me.” He raised his hand and gently caressed her cheek.

He’d told her on various occasions how much he valued her, even just in friendship, what a comfort she was to him in this new world. “Crane…I know” she assured him.

He sighed. “I am not certain that you do. I believe that we will prove victorious in our endeavors to win this war, but the thought that I might fall.”

“—Don’t. Even. Say it.” Abbie cautioned. He now took both of her hands in his.

“Abbie the idea that I _could_ fall without having shared these truths with you is…well it would be a sore regret.”   He slipped his hand underneath her chin pulling her eyes up to his. “Abbie you mean,” he shook his head in disbelief “the world to me. At the end of the day Grace Abigail Mills, you are the only person I have ever truly known. I would be lost without you, and you deserve to hear that.”

Abbie felt a warm blush spread through her cheeks all the way to her ears. She reached her hands up cupping his bearded skin. “I can’t lose you, I wouldn’t survive it. Promise me that we’ll outlast this war.” Ichabod wanted so desperately to kiss her just then, but he knew he couldn’t. He pulled her to his chest and held her tight enough to convey how much he loved her.

 

An hour later Ichabod was stretched out across the bed desperately trying to pay attention to the book he was holding. Abbie lay a few feet from him camped out on the rollaway bed. His thoughts were continuously running wild, and everything he felt for her in his heart was manifesting in his mind and correspondingly his body. His nerves were on edge, and it seemed like a low electrical current was sliding across the outer portion of his frame, while inside it felt as though the butterfly’s once confined to the bounds of his belly had broken loose, and travelled freely throughout him bumping into things along the way. No matter how ardently he tried to concentrate on the book before him, his thoughts kept travelling back to the outline of the exquisite figure cast just a few feet away. Images of her on top of him, him deep inside of her, of discovering what her desire tasted like, kept plaguing his mind.

She sat up abruptly, instantaneously springing him from his fantasy world. He peered over at her. “Abbie, is there something the matter, are you quite alright.”

“No Ichabod, I’m not alright, I’m not alright at all,” she said patting the side of her head. “I said I wouldn’t mind if you read a little while, that was almost an hour ago, and I’m tired, but I can’t sleep because the damn light’s still on.” Ichabod scoffed folding his book shut.

Abbie raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me.”

“Are your eyes not closed, whilst you’re trying to sleep? It would seem that should be sufficient in blocking out what little light is emanating from this very small lamp.” Ichabod replied with an incredulous stare. Abbie was outraged. True she was lying about the light being a bother, she wanted to make love, but he couldn’t possibly know that. Only she knew the reason she couldn’t sleep was because she kept drifting into thought about him. Touching her. Of the tenderness she felt when he kissed her on the couch, the size of him when he hardened beneath her, _Damn_ , She was the cop, but apparently he had the billy-club, and she really, reaaallly wanted his fucking billy-club.  

“Well even with my eyes closed, I can still see the light.”

Ichabod smirked lifting himself onto his elbows. “I apologize, it wasn’t my intention to keep you awake.” He said switching the light off. He heard Abbie shuffling blankets as he pulled his sheet up over his body.

“Good night Crane.” She whispered. “Sleep well, my heart.” he replied into the darkness.

As soon as Ichabod’s eyes blinked open the next morning he could feel it. Abbie’s round bottom was nuzzled snugly against his terribly swollen arousal. In a flash he recalled the events that led to his current predicament. He’d woken in the middle of the night to find Abbie fumbling with the thermostat using only the backlight from her cellphone as a guide. He found it ironic that he was the one with a mere sheet, but she was the one freezing. That was so like his Abbie. He immediately attempted to help her, but was also unable to get the contraption working properly. Defeated, Abbie decided that she would call the front desk and ask them to try to fix it, or at least bring more blankets.    

“I’m just going to call down.” She resolved.

“If it takes them as long as it did to bring the bed upon wheels, then it shall be nearly time for us to depart before they arrive.” He pauses and stares at her. “Come here.”  

Ichabod noted the hesitation in Abbie’s eye’s and reassured her. “I fully intend to act as a perfect gentleman, come here, Apple, let me hold you.” He said pulling her to his bed.

Such affirmations led to the extremely uncomfortable predicament he now found himself in. She was sleeping in his arms with her soft curves butting up against his hard cock. There was a pillow separating their lower bodies the night before, but now it was nowhere to be found. He lay quietly trying to decide upon the best method to extract himself from the bed without waking her. A moment later he heard a soft sigh fall from Abbie’s lips and she stirred grinding her already touching rear incredibly deeper into his crotch. It felt like a shock wave went off directly in the center of his chest, stimulating every nerve and vein in his body, especially the ones located between his legs. Try as he may he was unable to keep the hand already gripping her waist from tightening and pulling her firmly against his rigid member as he thrust forward. His mouth opened over her shoulder, while his hand slid down her outer thigh, and back up again. He closed his eyes as he heard a throaty moan fall from her lips.

“Ichabod, we….ahhh!” Her words died and turned to moans as his hand closed over her breast. He started laying soft kisses along shoulder, working his way across her neck as well. After a moment he leaned forward pressing his lips along her jawline. Breaking her own rules, she turned her head to taste his lips, dipping her tongue into his mouth as he pulled her closer. Ichabod brought his hand from her breast to angle her face to his, and immediately brought the hand from the arm beneath her to resume needling her breast. Abbie was completely undone. She couldn’t think of anything except for how good he felt just then, and how wonderful she felt when he touched her. She rolled her hips back against him, reaching her hand back to grip his thigh. Ichabod pressing the issue found the courage to slide his hand beneath her shirt, taking her bare breast into his hand. He traced her nipples with his fingertips as her backed arched pushing her further into his touch. She moaned fervently into his mouth. He slid his free hand down across her abdomen until her came to the band around her tights. He pressed her firmly against his groin as he dipped the tips of his fingers under the edge of her elastic.    

“Baby,” She breathed tearing her lips from his.

His only response was a deep vibrating moan, before he took her lips again.

Abbie’s cell alarm went off, and they were both instantly jolted back to reality. Quickly shifting from one another and standing on opposites sides of the bed. Both of them wide eyed, gawking at the other fully aware of what almost occurred. She already wanted him so desperately, if he had gotten his fingers into her panties it would have been a wrap. Ichabod stood staring at her with his hand ghosting over his penis, in an effort to cover, the affect her body had on his.

“Oh no.” He lamented. “I promised to remain a gentleman, Abbie forgive me,” He said coming to rest upon his knees in the bed. He’d never had this problem before, he shared company and beds with women before, and was without fail, able to control his urges.

“I am not entirely certain what happened.” He started.

“Ichabod.”

“I woke up, and I was holding you and then I lost complete control, forgive me.” He pleaded.

“Ichabod, I pushed against you. You lost control, because I felt you gently, innocently, rubbing my arm. I was somewhere in between being asleep, and awake, and _I_ lost control, I pushed against you, multiple times, you were behaving as a gentleman. I started this.”

He took her hand. “I hold you in the highest estimation, I would never seek to show you a measure of respect, less than what you deserve.” He pledged. Abbie moved across the bed on her knees to be closer to him.

“You haven’t.” She stated.

“I’m sorry. I never want to offend you.” He said taking her into his arms.

“And I don’t ever want to put you in this position again. We have to stop. We don’t have a choice.” She said looking up into his eyes. “Yesterday was, well, yesterday. There’s nothing we can do about that, but right now, and moving forward, we have to be more vigilant. It was insane to think that we could sleep in the same bed. We have to stop touching each other, in this way.” Ichabod sank back on his heels, wrapping his hands around the back of her thighs. He didn’t want to stop.

“I have to ask you once more, are you certain.” He asked pulling his brows together.

“No, I’m not. But I think it’s the right thing to do.” She answered. He sighed heavily, rising to his knees once more to squeeze her in his arms. He felt her gently shaking, and realized she was crying. He pulled back wrapping his hands around her shoulder, his fingertips dusted the nape of her hair.

“Apple..” He whispered wiping her tears. She turned her head and finished drying her face. She hadn’t known this man a full two years, and yet he had claimed more of her tears than any other soul on earth. She was a mess when it came to him, and she didn’t know how to pull it together on her own.

Abbie shook her head and spoke slowly. “I need something from you.”

“Anything.” He promised, wrapping his hands around her waist.

“I am going to take a shower, and…when I come back out here I need you to promise me…that things will be as they were before. The way we were when we first met. Before we ever started falling asleep together on the couch, before we started sitting up all hours of the night talking, before we ever took a boat ride, or kissed, before we said those words, that we never should have said. I can’t be your Apple, and you can’t be my baby, or even Ichabod. We have to go back to being Crane and Lieutenant Mills, because that’s the only way that I can do this. I don’t want to touch you, and I don’t want you to touch me.”

She spoke between sobs, “There is no in-between. It has to be this way.” Abbie could see a wall of tears threatening to spill from Ichabod’s eyes, as she leaned up, and briefly pressed her lips to his. His tears fell as her lips left him, and he knew instantly that the love of his life, had just kissed him goodbye. She brushed his lips with her thumb.

“I need this.” She looked down at the wedding band she’d been wearing when they were in Oregon. She removed it, dropping it into the trash on her way to the bathroom.


	13. Love Me Like You Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this up, things got really busy. Chapter 14 will be up later today, I just need to proofread it. It's longer so it might be a bit, but it will be today. Thank you all so much, and I hope you enjoy the chapter. :-)!

 

 

Ichabod sat solemnly at the edge of the bed re-reading a passage from _The Book of Realms_. Abbie had long gone into the washroom, but the essence of their conversation hung heavy in the air as drenched linen on a summer day’s clothesline. Her words requesting distance, and essentially a disassociation of what they’d become echoed through his head. _When I come back out here I need you to promise me…that things will be as they were before, The way we were when we first met._ … _I don’t want to touch you, and I don’t want you to touch me_ , _I don’t want you to touch me._    Ichabod lifted his eyes to the ceiling and let out a heavy breath. He completely understood her reasoning for not wanting to touch or behave in a certain manner going forward. Katrina. But the notion of erasing nearly everything that had transpired between them left him dejected, and filled with an emptiness he hadn’t felt since before their friendship was forged. He stood, folded the book shut, and returned it to his sack. He was in the midst of recalling the dream he’d had last night when he heard her footsteps falling upon the low-cut carpet. He was still slightly startled when he turned to face her, having been so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard the shower stop. He noticed straightaway that her expression was downcast, there was a quiet guardedness to it that wasn’t there before. Her eyes lacked the glittering sparkle they usually held, and he briefly looked away from her, unable to contain how much he hated himself for his hand in extinguishing it. But his eyes returned to her, because even still, he couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked standing there in her simple blue jeans and short sleeved shirt. Her small hands barely kept hold of her personal items, in one, a bag with her pajamas, and a ziplock containing her soap, lotions, and deodorant. In the other, she was rather precariously balancing her toothbrush and her nighttime pills, a multivitamin, and the ones which kept her from becoming with child in the event she were to have an unprotected sexual encounter.

He fought against the urge to assist her even though she seemed to be moments away from dropping something. He just stood there gaping at her, his eyes asking a thousand questions while offering a million tiny admissions. _How can you ask me to forget everything that has happened between us? I love you. Every smile, every hug, every drunken laugh or fallen teardrop over cold beer, while sitting under dimmed light. I love you. Every time I’ve cradled you in my arms and carried you up the steps to bed. All the occasions which you held my hand, or wrapped your arms around me, to remind me that even though I am a man out of time, I am not alone. Abbie. I. Love. You. So how is it that I could come to un-know, all of the things that I now know of you? Like how your eyes search the heavens for the moon, every time we’re out underneath the stars. How they flicker with youthful fascination when you see it, almost as if it’s something you’ve never seen before, and you gaze at it as long as you can, like you’re somehow afraid that you might never see it again. Tell me how I am to un-know that your true laugh is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. It starts from the back of your throat, softly, sounding almost as a subtle wind sweeping through an empty chamber hall, but it gathers such whimsical sweetness as it grows. Filling in and somehow capturing what I can only describe as all of the Lord’s joy, as it bounds from your lips. But after is when the real magic occurs, it sits in your eyes, brightening your beautiful umber irises long after the sound of it subsides. I know these things because of the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the times that we’ve shared. How can you call upon me to forget them, to relinquish them?_ The ziplock was the first to slip, bringing him from his thoughts. The pills followed, and he was immediately at her side helping her with her things. His hand fell over hers while retrieving the pill bottle, and he melted into the damp softness of it, recalling how just a few days before he walked along the docks with it enfolded in his. He missed the way he felt then, overflowing with delight, especially when his rangy arms gobbled her up, lifted her off of her feet, and swung her until her heard the laugh that caused him such a deep ungovernable pain. Abbie pulled her hand from under Ichabod’s, stood, and quietly thanked him for his help. But just a few minutes later, she grew irritated when she realized that he was going to just keep staring at her until she said something. Abbie zipped her suitcase, and turned to face him, but he noticed that her eye’s seemed to be aimed more at his shirt than his face, like she couldn’t really look at him.  

“I asked for this one thing.” She said quietly.

Ichabod took a step toward her, placing his hands in the pockets of his dark gray trousers. “I pray you reconsider, ask me for that which I might actually be able to provide you.” When she didn’t immediately respond, he stepped into her line of sight, but still she averted her eyes.

“You said anything, and I asked for peace, just to be able to walk into a room, and not have you look at me in the way…” She inhaled deeply, finally bringing her eyes to his, “The way that you’re looking at me right now.”

He wanted to touch her. He gathered his breath, as he searched her doleful expression, already seeing a hint of the glimmer he thought was gone. “And how might that be?” He asked wolfishly.

“You know how.”

“On the contrary, I am quite uncertain, please be so kind as to enlighten me.”

Abbie pursed her lips shaking her head. She wouldn’t say it, there was no peace in saying it, and she wouldn’t. He already knew.

“Abbie tell me how I am looking at you.” He demanded, moving closer still, so close that he managed to block out everything else.

“No.” She stated trying to move around him, but he quickly moved in front of her blocking her path.

“Do you not wonder why you cannot so much as bring yourself to say it?” He asked making himself bigger so that that she realized she would not easily get around him.

“Fine” Abbie said taking a step back. “Like you _love_ me, please stop looking at me like you love me.”

“How is it that you suppose I do such a thing, when I do indeed love you?” He questioned. Abbie caught a chill just from the deep baritone pitch of his voice. She looked up at him wondering if he’d lowered it on purpose, or if he had any idea what it did to her. When he spoke in that tone everything was so clear, it was like she was somehow made fully aware of her femininity, and correspondingly his masculinity. Like so many before her she was a strong woman, she handled her own shit, day in day out, never requesting assistance, or expecting any. She wasn’t used to needing anything that she couldn’t provide for herself. But something in his voice created this need in her, and she couldn’t touch it, she couldn’t provide for or satisfy it. Only he could. This brilliant, sexy, strong, highly capable man, had made her need something that only he had, and she was utterly dazzled by him. That deep heartfelt voice was never kind enough to stop at her ears, it greedily vibrated through them, and continued upon its known path to that place where that need lived. It blocked out all reason, and every ounce of good sense the Lord gave her, and said. _Remember this feeling, this danger, this protection, this fear, this safety, this love, this excitement, this calm. You need this._ Ichabod felt her resistance start to deteriorate, he reached for her, but she spurned his touch, and moved away from him.

“I love you…” He spoke tentatively, holding a finger up, while casting his other arm out wide, as if he were worried that she might run. He could see the softness growing behind her eyes, fighting to break through her newly erected walls. He saw all the questions she hasn’t asked orally, falling from her eyes. “I have heard every single word that you have said, but to go back to the start, to burn it all… it is too much. I deserve those memories.   You deserve them. Abbie I love you, promise you will never forget, or question that.”  

“It doesn’t _matter_.” She said fighting back tears, having just told herself in the shower that she would not relinquish one more tear, at any cost.

“It is the only thing that matters, and what you are asking of me…to somehow pretend that none of this ever occurred. That our friendship never blossomed, and we are not who and what we are to each other…Abbie this is not make believe, or one of the games you partook in as a child, there is no magic shot or elixir that we can use to erase these feelings and all that we have shared.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Abbie said tucking her hair behind her ear. “I have already tried _everything_ I could think of to…to change my mind, and heart, and soul about you?” She added casting her hand over the center of her chest.

“I’ve tried prayer, meditation, hell I almost went home with a man I’d known a total of three hours, trying to get rid of whatever this hold is you have over me. Believe me, trying to _not_ love you is a full time job, and I already have two, full time, jobs. But not feeling this way becomes so much harder when I look at you…and I see that look in your eyes.” She said softly. “And God forbid you touch me.” The expression on his face clearly displayed his hurt and disillusionment with what she was saying. Just looking at him made her want to recant. He was her baby, she just wanted to take care of him and make him happy, she hated seeing him hurt or sad, but she had to stand her ground. She couldn’t pick and choose to keep certain parts of him, carrying a piece of him just made her want more, she had to let him go. All of him, it was the only way.

“So what I am proposing is that we simply don’t acknowledge this, let’s just go back to the way things were, you know like in the beginning when we were.”

He started moving toward her causing her to take a step back for every one he took forward.

“Crane.” She said warningly.

Before long she felt the heel of her shoe butt up against the wall. She grimaced closing her eyes as Ichabod’s lengthy fingers curled around her waist.”

“Don’t” She cautioned.

“I won’t” He replied moving his hand from her waist, but moving even closer.

“Ichabod.” she whispered breathily, hanging her head. He lowered his as well. He wouldn’t lay hands upon her again unless she asked him to.

“Abbie look at me.” He pleaded with his eyes fixed intently upon her.

“No,” she answered, shaking her head.

“Lieutenant...look at me.” He repeated, his tone blanketed in austerity.

Abbie sighed heavily before slowly lifting her head, a little at first, and then all at once until her neck stretched all the way up, and she was once again gazing into those mesmerizing clear blue eyes.

“I will do as you request, if first you will do something for me.” He bargained.

She didn’t speak, but her eyes, and the slightest nod of her head offered her tacit consent.

‘Tell me that you do not love me, tell me that you never have, for this is what your suggestion aims to do is it not. To erase it all, and take us back to the start.” Abbie’s heart broke. He wanted her to open her mouth, and lie right to his face, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine speaking those words. Nevertheless she swallowed hard, and tried to find her voice.

“I…I..” She licked her lips. “I can’t say those things.”

He look of relief flooded his features, and Abbie thought she saw the beginning of a smile on his face. And then her hands clutching his waist, and it was gone. She could feel his soft breaths billowing across her face as she lost herself in his penetrating deep pools, they disappeared beneath his lids just as she stretched up to take his lips. He folded his hands behind his back, in an effort to keep them off of her and bent to meet her kiss, a long lingering peck. One that somehow managed to beg for more, and shy away from it at the same time. Their heads hung forward once more, both of them breathing frantically, as they tried to recover from the kiss behind them, and somehow struggle against the one before them. The room was dead quiet, save their heavy pants for air. Abbie raised up again pressing her lips against his for another long peck. Her kiss was full of loving sweetness, Ichabod somehow culled the urge to use his tongue or deepen it. He yearned to taste her, all of her, but he wouldn’t force the issue, she would lead here. He could feel his trousers growing tight as he gently sucked her bottom lip. Her soft moans filled the air, causing him to lose even more space in his pants. He thrust his hands against the wall, as he kissed her trying to relieve some of the pressure. He wanted to touch her. She felt his lips abruptly leave her. Upon opening her eyes she became immediately aware of how intensely his eyes had darkened.

He came forward again, but this time only barely brushing her lips with his, and retreating each time she tried to return the kiss. Abbie quickly grew frustrated and desperate, stretching and pushing herself, while using the wall as leverage in order to taste him again. Ichabod arched an eyebrow, a trace of smugness etched across his face. _He’s toying with me,_ she thought as her lips turned slightly upward. No sooner did she begin her retreat than he bent and kissed her with all the passion he held for her. His tongue swept across hers instantly, sending shooting tingles throughout her body, and igniting a fire that she wasn’t sure she could put out. If his kiss was the match that started the fire, then his hands were there to stoke the flame. His fingers left the wall, and slid down her back and spread just over the top of her rear. Abbie’s heart sped up from excited expectancy when she realized what he was doing. He slowly slipped his fingers lower stopping after every inch conquered waiting for her to acquiesce to, or reprimand his behavior. She did neither—at first—but soon he had fistfuls of her ass and he squeezed it with such unprecedented precision, that she thought she was going to die from want right then and there.

“Crane” she moaned against his lips causing him to dig his fingers so tightly into her backside that she was certain that there would be particles of her skin beneath his fingernails, if not for her soft denim jeans. He went between holding her rear firmly to rubbing his palms across it until he found a new part of it to grip. She was already flush against him, but he pulled her closer still, allowing her to feel what was barely hidden beneath his slacks. That’s when it happened, he added the lighter fluid in the form of a low rumbling groan that pulsed from the back of his throat, and the bass of it pierced through her telling her _fuck everything you thought you knew, me Tarzan you Jane_. Abbie was weak. Ichabod touched and kissed her as if he were trying to commit every fiber of her being to mental memory, like it was the first and last time. Without her even realizing her hands had wrapped around his belt. She came to after hearing his deep moan as she started fumbling with the buckle. Ichabod groaned out her name, he loved her so much it literally pained him. Abbie was quivering with reckless desire, she felt as though her clitoris had consumed her entire body, and every place he touched screamed for more of him. She gripped it tighter, sliding the leather out from under the cool metal buckle. Ichabod’s body shook with desire, and excitement, so much so that he felt he might explode. He kissed her gently as she fumbled with his belt. And then she stopped. She took a deep unsteady breath, and pushed his belt back through the loop, and turned her head to the side, leaning back against the wall. She wanted him, more than she could remember wanting anything but not like this. The ache between her thighs cursed her, but she ignored it.

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” She managed as she fought for air.

“No Angel, I know…I know.” He said placing a kiss to the side of her temple. He quickly adjusted himself as best he could, he was rock hard.

Her shoulders heaved violently as she slid away from him, and walked to the center of the room. “Ichabod,” she spoke quietly, “What are we doing, this isn’t…us.”

Ichabod eyebrows drew together, as he drew rapid breaths through swollen lips. “You are correct.” He said after a moment. “This…this is not us, this is my doing, I only...” He wanted to make love to her. His face and shoulders dropped and Abbie became instantly alarmed seeing something in his eyes she didn’t readily recognize.

She moved toward him. “Crane?”

He looked away, but not before Abbie could see a look of absolute despair wash over him.

“What’s wrong? Please. What are you not telling me?” Abbie begged.

He took her by the hand and led her over have a seat on the sofa. “Forgive me.” He took a deep breath. “There are some things that I neglected to mention to you, things that I have previously considered, but that I have only just today considered to be of any grave importance.”

“What do you mean, like what?” She asked.

“Yesterday evening, when you asked my reasoning for telling you all of this now. I told only part of the story.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Yesterday evening when I spoke of my dream, when I said that I nearly died” He paused, knowing his words would trouble her. “It would have been more accurate to say that I did in fact meet my end.” Abbie’s eyes opened wide, and Ichabod could see the look of concern across her face as she tried to discount it.”

“It was probably just a bad dream right, I mean look at what we do every day, we’re bound to have bad dreams.”

“True, and that is precisely what I reasoned after the first time I had the dream. Only I had the exact same dream last night. I died in purgatory shortly after freeing Katrina. I suppose a part of me since the first dream, at least subconsciously, had been longing to tell you what lies in my heart…so that if I might perish, you would know what you meant to me.”

Abbie stood up not really hearing anything he said after he spoke of dying in purgatory. “Crane we’ve both had dreams, and we’ve both had visions,” She took his hand in hers. “I need you to think, what did it _feel_ like, did feel like a dream or did it feel like...”

Ichabod took a deep breath, and stood, knowing that Abbie would not want to hear his answer. “I am afraid it seemed more a vision. What’s more, after once again consulting the text in the _Book of Realms_ , it seems our task is even more daunting then we first presumed. I can enter into purgatory as we planned, but in order to pass back into our realm I must locate the coins of Atrial, which are guarded by…the guardian of purgatory.

“Moloch.” Abbie breathed.

Ichabod continued. “It is the only tender accepted to pass through the realms. I will have one hour our time, but as you know time in purgatory is…”

“–Immeasurable.” Abbie finished his sentence. She made a sound as if the wind were knocked out of her, and immediately began pacing and rubbing the sudden ache in the back of her head. A mirthless laugh rang from her chest. “This is just great, just fucking perfect!”

“Okay…okay” She mumbled under her breath, as her heart hammered against the side of her chest.

“Abbie.” Ichabod walked toward her.

“Why” she asked throwing her hands out to her side. “Why wouldn’t you tell me all of this sooner, we need to game-plan, we need to strategize...we…”

“Abbie.”

It wasn’t that she was ignoring him, or didn’t hear him, but her mind was running a mile a minute and she didn’t have time to respond to him right away. She took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts.

“Okay first we have to call Seamus and tell him that we need to hold off on the ritual until we figure this thing out.” Abbie already had her phone in hand, when she felt Ichabod’s fingers close around it.

“No.”

She was completely dumbfounded. “What do you mean _no_?” She spun around to confront him. “Of course we have to reschedule, Crane we are not prepared.”

“Abbie we will move forward as planned.” Ichabod stated tiresomely as if they had already had this conversation before. Like this wasn’t the first time he told her that he had a vision he would die rescuing his wife.

Abbie tried to fight off the sour expression she felt taking hold of her face. “But we have time before the next new moon, we can”

“—She may not...She may not have time, Katrina said her powers were growing weak and she was uncertain that she could protect herself.”

“She said she had until the new moon!” Abbie said not realizing her voice had raised.

“That was a deadline Abbie. Upon which she will execute a plan that might very well leave her dead. I need to free her from there long before it comes to that.”

Abbie stared at him in disbelief. “Even if you lose your life doing so, when there could be another way, Ichabod please…we just need a little time.”

“Abbie there is but one choice here. If you were in purgatory what do you suppose could hinder me from coming for you a moment later than I could?” He posed. At that moment Abbie started to internally panic, because she knew him. Nothing, not even the threat of death would keep him from doing whatever was necessary to protect the people he loved. Not to mention the immense amount of guilt he felt for Katrina being in purgatory in the first place. He listened to Abbie—always, she could usually persuade him to change his mind regarding anything, but not this. His sense of duty and honor were so germane to his being, he didn’t listen to anyone in matters concerning them. She thought back to the night the masons provided him with poison so that he could rid the world from the threat of the horseman, by killing himself, and thusly the horseman. He drank it without a second thought, without regret, and there was nothing she could say to stop him. Suddenly everything began to make perfect sense. The way he touched her in bed this morning, and again against the wall even though they had agreed not to. She briefly wondered whether he would have confessed his love for her, whether he would have touched her the way that he did, had he not had the dream, had he not had the growing suspicion that there was a chance he was walking into his death.

“Listen to me.” She spoke calmly, and carefully, the way he had heard her speak so many times before when trying to explain a process or procedure to a citizen who was riled up, and not cooperating. “Your vision was a warning, so that we could prepare ourselves and alter the outcome. You _have_ to see that, we have several days until the new moon, I’m just asking for a few of them. Please.”  

“Abbie I can’t..I cannot risk it. I am…at peace with it. This time that I have been given…with you” She saw the water build in front of his eyes. “My life has been arduous to say the least, practically nothing has gone to plan.” He closed the small amount of space between them, and took her hands. “But I would relive every second of it in its entirety, a thousand times over…just for the tiny precious moments that I have shared with you.”

The lump in Abbie’s throat had grown to epic proportions, absorbing everything and threatening to suffocate her. Abbie pulled back from him as her tears swelled over her brown orbs, unable to hold them back, they burst over her lids like a waterfall. All of it was too much. Too much love, too much pain, too much anguish, her body shook trying to purge all of it out of her at once. He didn’t know. He had no idea what she felt like before when he almost died, the day headless nearly took his head.   This bond they shared usurped everything, it appropriated parts of her that she never knew existed, and bound them together inextricably in ways that she couldn’t begin to understand. If he died, he would take all of those parts with him.

“You don’t have to do this, not this way, you’re _choosing_ this. I understand you wanting to save Katrina, so do I, but all I am asking is that you give yourself a fighting chance. Just a few days, to figure out an adequate plan.”

His face confirmed what she knew it would before she started speaking, he wouldn’t change his mind. She expected to lose him, that he would reunite with Katrina, after today, and she would lose him. But not in the way that he was speaking of, not totally, because she wasn’t certain she could continue to live in a world without him in it.

“I will _never_ forgive you.” She snapped. He reached for her but she evaded his touch. Her voice was splintered and full of agony as she spoke, but he understood her. “I wish I didn’t love you…I wish that we never became friends, that I never believed in you, or followed you down to that _stupid_ cave.

“Abbie please.” He pleaded moving toward her.

“No! I wish that you were never in my holding cell that day… I wish I never met you.” Her words stopped him in his tracks. She knew she shouldn’t have said it, she knew that words somehow meant something more to him than they did to other people, that he was used to people saying what they actually meant. But in that moment, as small as it may have been, she did mean it. She dried her eyes as best she could, before throwing on her shades, gathering her things and heading down to checkout. By the time she made it out to the rental car Ichabod was standing beside it. She should have apologized, she should have said something, anything. She didn’t. They rode in complete silence for most of the way. Save a moment when Abbie veered aimlessly unto the rumble-strips, and Ichabod inquired about her wellbeing.

She rolled her eyes, and corrected her steering. She had been lost in thought trying to formulate a better method of getting Crane and Katrina out of purgatory safely. Abbie looked at the clock on the console, it was one thirty, and the ritual was set to begin at three o’clock sharp. She pulled over on a dimly lit dirt trail about ten minutes out from Seamus’s. The tall trees complete with overstuffed green leaves were trying their best to eclipse the bright afternoon sun.

“Why are we?”

“—I didn’t mean it.” She whispered looking straight ahead. She turned to him. “I was angry and hurt. I still am.” She added as a few tears toppled down her cheek. “But I didn’t mean it.” His choices, his decisions were part of the reason she loved him. Because he didn’t bow on command, or turn away from what he thought was right, simply because others were not in agreeance, simply because she was not in agreeance. She couldn’t run him, the way she ran Collin, the way she ran Luke. He held firm to the things that were important to him, come what may. She loved him because he kept these parts of himself, his convictions untouched.   He didn’t give her everything, he gave her just enough to make her _want_ everything.  His tearful eyes, and hand stroking her hair offered his initial reply.

“Abbie…I know.” He whispered reaching over and stroking her soft locks. But he didn’t know, he couldn’t. She decided to go against everything she’d ever learned about protecting yourself when it came to love. He was hurting her, but instead of hiding it, she decided to let him in, and show him how he was making her feel. She sank back against the seat.

“I can’t remember what it was like. How I lived before you.” She spoke slowly because it was the only way she was able to keep her voice clear and strong, as her tears fell. She looked out of her driver’s side window, knowing she would never get the words out if she were looking at him.

“I feel like…you’re trying so hard to save Katrina…even though you might die...it’s almost like you’re itching to die for her, to sacrifice yourself for her,” She knew she could no longer keep her voice steady, and she hated that she felt like she was whining, but he needed to know what this was doing to her.

“But you won’t even _consider_ trying to live for _me_.” She sobbed uncontrollably. “Like you don’t care about how any of this will affect me. Or even, what might happen to the rest of the world, if something happens to you.” Ichabod reached over and quickly unfastened her seatbelt, and slid his arm underneath her legs, lifting her to his lap, and wrapping his arms around her. He nestled her head into his chest and kissed his apologies into the top of her head. Her sobs caused his own tears to shake loose. Ichabod sat there rubbing her back and hair gently until her sobs turned to shivers, and finally stopped altogether.

“Abbie…Apple,” he stated allowing himself to breathe in the scent of her hair. “You are always in the forefront of my mind. I do not want or wish…to die.” He sighed heavily. “To leave you. But I must. I know that you need me…however I also know that you are so, unbelievably strong, and you will survive without me. I beg you understand, that I have already considered alternatives, and that this is the path that I have chosen to take in light of them.” He placed his hand under her chin and pulled her eyes to his.   “Just know that I consider you, at every turn, there is nothing in the universe that means more to me than you. What you are saying….I know how it may seem, but I hold nothing higher than you. Tell me that you understand that.”

She shook her head against his chest and sniffled. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“I promised to protect her. If she dies in purgatory because I am preoccupied with salvaging my own life, I could never forgive myself. I would no longer be the person I am, the man who has your heart. I do not wish to be some other fellow, a man who fails to keep his promises. Tell me you understand.” Abbie sat back looking at him but couldn’t bring herself to do as he asked.

Ichabod’s heart slowed as he regarded her against the streaks of sunlight that sieved in from the windshield, even this way tearful, sad, she was so beautiful. He brought his hand to her face pushing a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “I need to hear you say it.” He persisted.

“I understand…but I hate it.” Abbie pulled away, and attempted to retake the driver’s seat, but Ichabod pulled her close, tightened his arms around her, and rested his head against the crook of her neck. They allowed themselves to stay there that way for the next ten minutes, finding some semblance of solace before the ensuing storm.

 

Abbie felt Ichabod fingers gently squeeze her knee as they pulled down Seamus’s long driveway. She dropped her hand over his, and locked their fingers. Seamus came out to greet them as they arrived motioning for Abbie to park alongside an old barn.

“Wow, I can’t believe you guys pulled it off.”   He said shaking his head.   “How the hell did you guys manage it? First the crystal, and now the _Book of Realms_.” He lauded.

“It’s a long story” Abbie replied stretching outside of the car. “One we’ll have to discuss when there’s more time.”

Seamus grinned, “There isn’t ever going to be more time is there?” Abbie smiled weakly and quickly shook her head from side to side.

“That’s what I thought” he laughed. “Well anyway, come this way I’ll introduce you to my grandfather.”

Ichabod and Abbie walked along side of the barn, past a stable of horses, and up towards the main house. Seamus’s grandfather was sitting on his living room sofa when the witnesses walked in. The large walls of the room were decorated with various fish mountings and decoys he had carved himself.

“Come in, come in” he welcomed them. “Please have a seat.” He was a man of average build and stature with gray hair that fell just past his shoulders. Even with the deep creases time had worn into his skin, you could tell that he was quite a handsome man in his younger years.

“Grandfather, these are my friends Ichabod Crane, and Lieutenant Abbie Mills, this is my grandfather Little Bear, but he goes by Bob. He and Seamus spoke briefly in their native language, shortly thereafter, Seamus exited the room.

The old man then turned his attention to Ichabod and spoke in the same language he and Seamus had just spoken in.

Ichabod smiled, and responded in kind. (S _poken in a Native American language)_ “Thank you kindly for your thoughtfulness; you are a most gracious host. My companion and I have taken no thought to food or drink, and it has been an extremely long day. Such nourishment is welcomed.”

_Really, Abbie thought. He’s such a fucking showoff._

Ichabod rose and handed the man the book. The old man accepted the book looking at it in awe. He delicately began flipping through the pages.

Bob returned to speaking in English. “Seamus tells me you hope to free someone from the realm of purgatory, this can be very, very difficult.” He stated.

“Yes we are desperately trying to free my wife, Katrina. She is imprisoned there by Moloch.” Bob consulted the text, and basically explained to them much of what they already knew. When Abbie told him of Ichabod’s vision, and questioned whether there was anything that they could do to avert such a terrible outcome, a bemused expression overtook his face.

“Aren’t you the one planning on entering purgatory?” He asked looking back and forth between the two witnesses.

“No.” Ichabod replied swiftly. He quickly switched to the language they had spoken in earlier. “She is not to enter, under any circumstance.”

Bob following his lead responded in kind. “It is she who has the ability to walk between the realms, surely you must have discovered that in your study of the text. You both, as witnesses, are endowed with specific gifts, the second witness has the best chance of freeing a soul from purgatory. You will need two coins to return, one for your soul, one for the soul you hope to save. She needs nothing, the gates will open upon her command. You should stay, and act as an anchor, so that she has an easier time returning, to keep her from getting pulled into the lost realm.”

Abbie looked on as Bob and Ichabod spoke in the other language, while gesturing towards her, it made her super uncomfortable because it was clear that she was the topic of the conversation. Ichabod looked at her, then returned his gaze to Bob, and continued speaking.

“No. She may enter and exit with ease, but she will be in grave danger every moment in between. There are evils doers there who will know she is a witness, who will know of her gifts, they will see her as their way out. I will not endanger her. It will be me, please, let us speak of this no more.”  

Abbie held her hands out to her side in agitation “Okay wait a minute, in English please.” After neither of them spoke Abbie asked for a moment alone with her partner and pulled him outside.

“Okay, you wanna let me know what the hell’s going on here?”

“It is nothing of any consequence.” He replied calmly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Didn’t you just chastise me for not including you, and not treating you as a partner?”

“That was a completely different situation, you could have been…”

“—Hurt? You had a warning you that you might not make it out of purgatory, you could be hurt. Tell me what the difference is?”

Ichabod opened his mouth, but couldn’t quite formulate a response, without contradicting himself. He stepped off the edge of the porch, his eyes focused in on the creek off in the distance as if it contained his answer. He didn’t want her there, it was as simple as that. It was bad enough that Katrina was trapped in purgatory, and the idea of Abbie being stuck there as well was too much.

“You know what don’t even answer, I already know the answer.” Abbie said stepping in front of him. “What you’re doing is sexist.” She alleged.

“Nonsense, I have long supported the suffrage and equal rights for women, to suggest that I somehow view women as the lessor sex is preposterous.”

“I’m not suggesting anything, I’m stating a fact. If I were a man, we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation, and the bottom line is, I was chosen too, so let me in.” She paused waiting for him to comply but he just stared at her with a bleak look upon his face.

“Ichabod tell me what the book says, or hand it over and I will decipher it for myself.”

“This conversation has nothing to do with the fact that you are a woman, I know precisely how capable you are. How talented you are.” He took a step closer to her, as if to shield his words from the ears of others. “It does, however, have everything to do with the fact that you are the woman I love, and this is my problem, my fight. I will not see you dragged you into it.”

“Your victories and triumphs are my victories and triumphs. That means that your battles and wars are mine as well. We ride and die together. Even before…” She sighed biting her lip feeling the warm rush of blood flood her cheeks in remembrance of the declarations they made the day before. She didn’t have to say it, his hand gently brushed her cheek and a knowing smile flittered across his eyes.

He spoke in a growling admonishing tone. “Abbie.” He said taking her by the waist.

“Please don’t shut me out. Just tell me.” She pleaded. Ichabod spent the next few minutes enlightening her about what he had discovered.

“—I’m going.” She stated before he could even finish explaining.

“No. It’s far too dangerous, out of the question.” He replied adamantly.

“Ichabod, you knew that it should have been me all along. Trust me, I can do this.”

“I do trust you it’s only…I am not as strong as you, I cannot bear the thought of living without you, should something go wrong.”

He leaned forward resting his forehead against the top of her head. “I’m going.” She repeated. Ichabod took Abbie back inside, and explained to Bob the new developments. He informed him that he and Abbie would be entering purgatory, together. Just as Bob began to disagree because it is best to have a strong anchor binding the soul in purgatory to earth, Jenny and Irving pulled up.

“Jenny and Abbie’s bond is strong. She will serve as our anchor.”

 

A little over seven hours later Abbie stood outside of Ichabod’s room with her hand on the door handle trying to decide whether it was better give him time, or to go in. She stared at the door so long she began to wonder who invented the first door, and what propelled him or her to do so. She started thinking about their functionality, and how they served to keep certain things in, and other things out. The door fell away and Abbie’s mind briefly drifted back to purgatory. It felt like a trap from the moment they arrived, almost as if Moloch was waiting for them. They were heading for the church where Katrina often returned to mourn the loss of Jeremy, but she actually found them, walking cautiously through the field just after they arrived. Everything after that happened so quickly, that Abbie could hardly believe it. Ichabod had barely embraced Katrina before Moloch showed up. He quickly stood in front of them ordering them to run, but Moloch sent him flying with seemingly very little effort. Abbie was standing directly behind him, so the force ended up taking her out as well. They scrambled to their feet just in time to see Moloch holding Katrina in the air by her neck, and using his other hand to spear her through the heart. She disappeared right before their eyes. She could still hear Ichabod’s piercing screams, and see the flash of pain that ran through his eyes. He charged Moloch before she could stop him. As soon as he was close Moloch picked him up in the same way that he did Katrina, Abbie could vaguely hear him speaking to Ichabod, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Ichabod was woozy, but Abbie’s blood curdling scream was enough to jolt him back to life. He could just barely see her running toward them out of the corner of his eye. The thought of Moloch harming her swelled in his belly instantly, pulling forth a fury that he had never known. He lifted his palm, to Moloch’s head and the energy that he felt rising through his insides came out, and knocked Moloch back. Ichabod fell into a crumpled heap on the ground, trying with everything he had to untangle his legs. He somehow got his legs under him and ran to meet Abbie, choking and gagging all the way. He heard her warnings to hurry because Moloch was getting up, and somehow found an extra gear. Once there hands were joined he never looked back.

Bob had insisted that she and Ichabod spend the night in light of everything that happened.  Normally Abbie would have argued, she really craved the comfort of her own bed, but not tonight. The plane ride, time on the road, purgatory, all of it had left her exhausted. Not to mention that Crane was distraught, they needed refuge. Irving had work to do so he and Jenny went on ahead without them.

Abbie could just barely hear him crying as she turned the knob and entered the room. Like her own next door, the room was nice, quaint, and complete with everything necessary to provide a peaceful nights rest. But there was no peace here tonight. He sat up straight and quickly tried to wipe away his tears when he heard her enter the room. Abbie slowly walked across the room and sat next to him on the bed. She knew he was still crying, only silently now, and seeing him so upset immediately brought forth tears of her own.

“Oh Ichabod, I am so, so sorry. I’m not going to pretend like I know exactly what you’re feeling right now. But I’m here, and if you need to talk or…anything…I’m here, I just want you to know that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

She rose to her feet. “Well I’m sure you want some time,” She stated giving his back a gentle rub. For the first time since she’d entered the room, he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze.

“Abbie…she’s gone, Katrina’s…I’ve failed her, she’s gone...and with her the remaining remnants of the life we shared, of who I was.”

Abbie stood directly in front of him and looked into his eyes and trying in vain to fight back a renewed batch of tears. She bit her bottom lip and shaking her head slightly.

“You fought with everything you have. Yes, and I am so sorry, she is gone, but you still have the memories of your time and life together.” She placed her hand on the side of his cheek. “And you are who you are. You are still Ichabod Crane, Professor of History, Captain in The Revolutionary Army,” Abbie carefully took his hands into her own. “Who with these hands helped to usher in a new era, and forge this very nation. A witness chosen by God himself, and with these same hands you will help defend the world that he created. These are truths that hold fast against the hands of time, they were, they are, and they forever will be…irrespective of who is able to recall them.”

Ichabod threw his arms around her and let his tears fall freely unto the soft fabric of her shirt. Abbie held him tightly to her, softly stroking his hair until minutes after his whimpers subsided. She then pulled back enough to push his hair from his face, and lay a soft kiss on the top of his forehead. “I know it’s hard, but you should try to get some rest.” She whispered.   As she turned to leave she felt his warm hands clasp hold of hers.

“Don’t.” He pleaded softly. “I….do not wish to be alone, please stay.” He couldn’t tell her that he also didn’t wish for her to be alone. That Moloch had levied a threat against her. He had already taken everything from him that meant anything, except for her, and he was afraid to let her out of his sight.

Abbie took an unsteady breath. “Okay.” she whispered faintly.   Ichabod slid to the other side of the bed creating space for her to lay. He pulled back the blanket and smoothed out the pillow on her side, while opting to lay on top of the covers himself. Abbie folded herself into the bed, and tried to pull the blankets up around her, but she couldn’t quite get as much as she wanted because of his weight on top of them. That’s when she felt him rise and shift the entire blanket around her.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” He said hoarsely. “Are you warm enough?” He whispered noticing her shivering.

“I’ll be fine.” She answered satisfied.

Moments later she felt his arm wrap around her, his hand searching, following the length of her arm until their hands were joined together.   He gently pulled her closer to his chest until Abbie could feel the heat of his breath against the top of her head.

The next morning Ichabod woke to a soft chirping noise he soon discovered was coming from a wall clock across the room. He looked over to his side and quickly sat up when he realized Abbie was no longer there.

“Abbie?” He looked around the room awaiting a reply. “Lieutenant?” He called more urgently rising to his feet. He recalled Moloch’s words from the night before. _Witness you will continue to suffer, I have already taken the witch, the boy, and soon your aeternalis will be mine as well. You may think she is yours but I will come upon you when you least suspect, and snatch her from your very arms, I will have what is rightfully mine, it is decreed._ He was rapidly approaching panic when the doorknob twisted and she came creeping into the room.

“Hey, you’re awake.” She said softly. “I didn’t wake you did I.”

“No, not at all.” He calmed himself, but his state did not go unnoticed by Abbie. “I’m afraid that honor was bestowed upon a little wooden bird.” He said after a moment. Abbie tilted her head to the side curiously.

“The clock.” He said pointing to it on the wall.  

“Oh.” We’re all packed if you’re ready to head back. Bob made breakfast, and there’s coffee. I know that you’re probably not hungry though.” Her voice trailed off. She wanted to tell him how sorry she felt that Katrina had died. Contrary to what she told Ichabod she kept thinking if only they could have gotten things done a little sooner they may have been able to save her. The look of defeat and failure in his eyes was more than she could withstand, but she didn’t know exactly what to say to make him feel better. So she went to him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head in his chest. “I’m so sorry.” She mumbled against the fabric or his shirt. He pulled his arms around her and pressed a chaste kiss into the top of her head. As soon as he realized her was holding her he remembered Moloch’s ominous warning. _I will snatch her right from your arms_. He slowly loosened his grasp on her, realizing that his arms might not be the safest place for her.

“I know. So am I.” He whispered.  

They spent a short while thanking and saying their goodbyes to Seamus and his family. His grandfather had spent some time walking with Ichabod along the creeks edge. Abbie was unsure exactly what they were talking about, but she assumed it had something to do with the death of Katrina. The night before, they’d recited an incantation several times, trying to contact her spirit, but nothing happened.   Finally after the eighth try, Bob informed them that the only possible reason she wasn’t pulled through was because she had already crossed over. He said that it was uncommon for a spirit to cross over so quickly, but not unheard of. Abbie watched the two men walk along the water’s edge until their figures fell out of view. She immediately felt uneasy. She didn’t know whether it had anything to do with Katrina being here one minute and gone the next, or just the natural need to be near him. As she turned to exit the bedroom she was startled by a woman standing not two feet away from her.  


“Oh excuse me I didn’t hear you come in Ma’am.” Abbie stated surprised. The woman smiled kindly at her.

“It’s alright dear I seem to have that effect on people.” Abbie felt the hair on her arm stand on end, and quickly used her other hand to smooth it down.

“Right” Abbie said slowly, “Well if you’d excuse me I was heading out to find my friend.” The woman chuckled softly.

“Abigail you needn’t be frightened, you’re safe here, you both are—always.”

“I’m, I’m not frightened.” Abbie declared slightly lifting her chin into the air. At this the woman came into a full laugh.

“Of course you are. Every time you’re afraid your hand drifts towards that gun on your waist. What’s more is before there ever was a gun you still had a tell whenever you were scared.” The woman took a step towards Abbie. “That same hand clenched ever so slightly into a fist while you assessed the situation, and decided whether to swing, or run. More times than not you swung.”

Abbie took a shuddering breath. “Ma’am.” She said curiously causing the woman to hold her hand up.

“I know all of this because I’ve been watching you for quite a long while. But we haven’t the time to go into all of that, that we’ll leave for another day. I need you to look in the bottom drawer. There is a tiny compartment underneath it, remove the box from inside of it dear.”   Abbie was confused but slowly walked over to the draw and did as instructed, taking care not to turn her back to her. She removed the box and opened it at the woman’s prompting. Inside there was a necklace made of beads, and a hollowed stone, she held it up and looked toward the lady before her.

“It’s beautiful.” She said watching the light filter through it.

“It’s yours.” The woman smiled. “You’re a fighter Abigail, always have been, always will be, it’s in your spirit. But there will come a day when you’ll want to run, but you won’t be able to. And your enemy will be such that neither you gun nor fists will be enough to overcome it. On that day the stone of the necklace will protect you. Keep it with you always. The heart of your journey is just beginning, and there will be many forces trying to separate you and Ichabod, you mustn’t let them. Your strength comes from each other, and as goes the two of you, so does the world. You must go now dear, he’s waiting for you.”

Abbie’s mouth hung open as she cautiously eased by the woman, and headed out to find Crane.

“Just remember you’re safe here.” Abbie lips curled up slightly. She was a few steps down the hall when she realized she’d never gotten her name. She turned back entering the room. “Excuse me I didn’t get your name.” The end of the sentence trailed to silence as Abbie realized that there was no one in the room. She gasped, blinking away her disbelief. She had a feeling that there was something different, almost otherworldly about the woman, now she was certain. As she walked back through the living room she noticed a family photo on the wall with the older woman who had just spoken with her. She recalled that Seamus informed them once before that she was his grandmother.  

She stood gazing at it so enthralled that she failed to hear the footsteps approaching behind her.

“Lieutenant” She felt Ichabod’s cool hand slip against her shoulder causing her to jump slightly.

“Hey.” she said turning towards him.

“Are you ready to depart—are you well, you appear a bit peaked.” He asked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m..I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “I’m ready.”

 

 


	14. Get Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the chapter. There is a lot more story to tell going forward, and some twists and turns I'm super excited about. Things have really gotten busy for me so it will most likely be weeks, probably three (unless things slow down) before the next update. :-)!
> 
> Brendan, Matt, and Perry were written like some of the characters from 40 year old Virgin. Brendan is essentially Romany Malco's charater, while Perry and Matt, where written in line with Seth Rogen, and Paul Rudd's characters respectively. They're very small parts but just fyi.

A lot had changed since Katrina’s death. Abbie remembered how fearful she was of losing Ichabod that day, and looking back on it now she realized she did lose him in a way. He hadn’t died the way his dream prophesized, thank God, but he wasn’t the same. At first she reasoned that he was simply mourning the loss of Katrina, and perhaps at first he was, but half a year later he still hadn’t come out of the fog he was in. There were flashes of course, little moments where he seemed to be the man she loved, the man who once loved her, but he never said as much, and not wanting to force him, neither did she. His teaching position began not even a full month after Katrina’s death, and Abbie was grateful in that it seemed to get him over the first hump. Having something to focus on that didn’t make him feel guilty, or ashamed for being alive when Katrina was dead. Something, she reasoned, that didn’t make him feel the way that her presence seemed to. He flourished there.

The couple of times Abbie dropped in on him, once to bring him a plant for his office, and another time when he’d forgotten his lunch, she was surprised with how well he seemed to be fitting in. He made a good friend, a couple of acquaintances, and had gotten into a steady routine with his courses. She got a chance to chat with some of his new friends at a get-together earlier in the school year, and once again the day she brought his lunch. They seemed like pretty decent guys. Surprisingly, seeing him in that atmosphere she realized that it was the most normal she’d seen him in months. At home he was different, often quiet, and detached. There were days she wondered if he even saw her. It was an odd thing being with someone so often, and at the same time, never really being with them. However, the day when she’d taken him his lunch he rose from the table when she stood to leave, and walked her to the exit. He placed his hand around her arm, and gave her a gentle squeeze before thanking her for bringing his food, and visiting with him and his coworkers. He took her hand in his, and caressed her knuckles with his thumb, thanking her again just as she was leaving. She was immediately disgusted with herself for how intrinsically happy it made her. She stepped out into the sunny fall day with a renewed since of wellbeing, and a bounce in her step. It was the most he’d touched her in the three months since Katrina’s death. Fast forward three months later, and it still was.    

She was patient with him though, supportive, and unassuming. Abbie was doing everything in her power to make this difficult time easier for him, but most of it seemed to go unnoticed. It was challenging for her, trying to help him heal, while at the same time giving him the time and space that he needed to do so. He held it together most days, but often in battle an indescribable rage would come pouring out of him. The joy he got from killing Moloch’s followers on the battlefield had become increasingly disturbing. He slaughtered the demon’s minions with malicious and punishing impunity, and lately there was rarely a day that his sword wasn’t covered in blood. He had even passed up the opportunity to teach an additional course, in order to focus more of his attention on the war. There were some good developments however, like he had learned to harness the power of the light within him, and could now use it at will, though he hardly ever did. He’d only used it on one other demon besides Moloch. They were markedly more proactive in their war against him. They no longer sat and waited to react to whatever schemes he was plotting, instead they took the fight to him. Destroying his troops and foiling his plots before they ever had a chance to get off the ground. Still Abbie was becoming battle weary, and she’d began to question whether the way in which they were seeking to destroy Moloch was efficient. They were destroying those aligned with him, but he remained untouched.

She’d began sneaking off to a nearby orphanage to volunteer every chance she got. Not sneaking because she needed someone’s permission to do what she was doing, but simply because she wanted to be alone. There was something so heartbreaking about being with Crane, when he wasn’t really there, and it became a feeling she sought to avoid. Jenny was as busy ever, and Abbie didn’t want to detract from the free time she had to be with Frank, things were going well for them. Besides, for her being with the kids felt like giving water to a starving plant. Sure she volunteered her time, but they were the water, and she was the plant. They reminded her what she was fighting for, and filled her with a unique form of happiness that sustained her during these battle laden times. It was refreshing to be around people before the world had a chance to change them, and turn them into something that they were never truly meant to be.

Abbie had spoken with Talum about a month after Katrina passed. He called to ask if she still intended to go out with him. She’d already missed his call twice, so she ducked into the kitchen to speak with him. As luck would have it Ichabod came striding in to get a drink. She never said his name, but something must have changed in her voice, or her conduct that gave Ichabod an inkling as to who she was speaking with. She had just informed Talum that she wouldn’t be able to see him again, and wished him well. He said something that caused her to laugh, and she looked up to find Ichabod scowling at her. As soon as she locked eyes with him, she could tell what he was thinking, and though she was still holding the phone, the voice on the other end of the line became muffled.

“Um I have to run, you take care of yourself, okay.” She hung up the phone, and stood up from the table under Ichabod’s disapproving gaze. Without uttering a word he walked out of the door. A few minutes later she heard the crack of his axe against the round of wood in the backyard. She made her way out to speak to him.  

“Crane.” He paused, turning over his shoulder to look at her, until she came into full view.

“I trust Mr. Bradford is well.”

“He is. I was actually just letting him know that I wouldn’t be able to see him after all, because-” she paused thinking, _I want you, “_ because we’ve been so busy ya know.”

“That we have.” He answered sounding indifferent. She didn’t know what to say so she just peered up at him through the awkward silence.

“Well if there isn’t anything else.” He said lifting his axe. _Wow, Abbie thought, He’s dismissing me, like I’m bothering him. Like he wasn’t just staring at me five minutes ago like a crazed lunatic._

“No that was all, is there anything else you wanted to say?” She asked.

“Nothing.” He replied quicker than she expected him to.

“Okay, well…I’ll leave you to it.” She said grinning weakly before heading back up to the house. She wasn’t going to pressure him, his wife had just passed three weeks before. Later that night he came to her room the same way he had a few nights before, and would so many nights after. Without fail he would tap on her bedroom door and she would wake to let him in. He shuffled in holding a blanket and a pillow that he unfailingly laid on the floor next to her bed, before stretching out over the top of it. He was always gone in the morning when she woke up. But this little bit he gave her, at least knowing that somewhere deep inside of him, he still needed to be near her, is what kept her holding on.

   

* * *

 

 

Ichabod entered the coffee shop adjacent to the college where he instructed. He was quickly flagged down by his companion Professor Brenden Williams. He was seated with a good friend of his, Matt Tilman, the college’s current Director of HR. Ichabod held up a finger indicating that he would be over as soon as he purchased his milk. By the time he made it to the table the duo had been joined by the Director of IT, Perry Chambers. He and Ichabod had gotten off to a rather choppy start, but they had long since put the misunderstanding behind them. As he approached the trio was huddled in quiet conversation.

“Gentlemen he said holding his tray at the edge of the table.”

“Aye, Aye, Aye, P, move over make some room for my boy.” Brenden stated.

Perry slid over, “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t see you there. But,” He resumed whispering. “Word on the street is, he _had_ to take that sabbatical because he fucked that freshman. His wife found out, caught them red-handed during his office hours. And get this, I heard she had photographic evidence. Like she is getting everything, that new Maserati he had, it’s fucking gone. I saw him last week coming out Subway getting into a 05’ Corolla.”

“Dayuuum.” Brendan cringed. “That will never be me, I don’t even look at these girls these days, man. No way I’m only getting to see my kids on Wednesdays and every other weekend, while some new dude is driving my car, giving it to my wife. I wonder how long they’re making him take.

Everyone’s eyes trailed over to Matt waiting for a more information. “I don’t know why everyone’s looking at me, I don’t know anything. Further I don’t think we should be speculating about this.”

Perry piped up. “Oh bullshit Matt, come on. You’re the fucking Director of HR, you’re right there in the administration office, you’re going to tell me you heard absolutely nothing about this.  I'm your best friend stop being such a corny cornball and tell me what went down.”

“First of all I’m not corny or a cornball, and…”

“Wait, wait, wait, you are kind of corny.” Brenden interjected.

“Brenden how you can call anyone corny, you teach Physics, that’s like the corniest thing on earth.”

“Whoa, how is providing students with a deeper understanding of classical, quantum, and statistical mechanics as well as, electromagnetism, thermodynamics, and special relativity, corny. Does anyone else think that’s corny?”

After receiving a chorus of no’s from the other gentlemen seated at the table Brenden continued. “You need to get your life together man.”  

“Right, what he’s doing is brightening young minds, you’re just corny for no reason. You’re fucking cornier than my grandmother’s toes. You’re fucking cornier than Ichabod and he brings a sack lunch, and has a compass in his left jacket pocket. No offense Ichabod.” Perry stated.

“And none taken, I suppose.” Ichabod says taking a gulp of his milk.

“What you’re doing is holding out on your bro’s because you’re chicken shit.” Perry accused.

“I _am_ chicken shit, it’s confidential information, and I am not at liberty to say. I could lose my job.” Matt stated.

“It’s not like it’s going to go any further than this table, I mean Ichabod’s new, but he’s a stand-up guy, he’s not going to say anything.”

“Frankly, it’s not Ichabod I’m worried about.”

“What?! Are you kidding me, you’re still talking about that piece of shit Whitman?”

“I trusted you, and you burned me.” Matt scolded.

“It’s not like I told anyone he was an alcoholic, all I said was he canned because he got shitfaced, before noon, and wrecked a university vehicle.” Perry said defensively.

“What! That’s the same thing!” Matt yelled.

“It is _not_ the same thing, and that’s why you’re holding out on me because his reputation got ruined. He fucking deserved it. That tree could’ve just as easily been a family of four, so fuck that guy.”

“Gentlemen, language.” Ichabod said looking up to see Professor Rebecca Murray headed their direction.” She taught Sociology at the college, and Ichabod saw a great deal of her working in the same department. Her long sandy blonde hair bounced through the air as she approached them.

“Hello gentlemen, I hope your day is going well.” She said smiling warmly to the chorus of hellos. “Professor Crane I was absolutely fascinated with your piece in the journal last week, I found it brilliantly insightful.”

Ichabod smiled proudly, “Why thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“No, thank you. I thought it highlighted some really intriguing nuances, though I was left with a few questions, perhaps you will be willing to get together sometime and discuss it further.”

“Certainly, I’m always game for a discussion on classical liberalism.” He chimed.

“Good then.” She beamed. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Well that was very kind of her.” Ichabod smiled. He looked around the unusually quiet table, and saw a three sets of wide eyes staring back at him. “What is it?” Ichabod looked down at his shirt. “Is there something on my attire?”

“No. But…” Brenden looked over at his friend. In the time he’d known Ichabod he’d realized that while he was truly intelligent, he didn’t pick up on some things as easily as other people. In particular, the advances of women.

“But, what? What is it?” Ichabod asked confused.

“You do realize what just happened right? With Becky.” Brenden questioned.

“Of course I made a loose arrangement with her to further discuss my article.” Ichabod replied.

Brenden shook his head. “No. No. Ichabod, I read your article, it was great, congratulations by the way, but that woman does not give two shits about reconciling classical liberalism with modern day American politics. She has the hot’s for you.”

“That’s preposterous, she is simply interested in my literary work.” Ichabod stated, dismissively.

“Fella’s, how long have we been eating our lunch at this exact table.”

“Say about four and a half, almost five years, yeah nearly five years.” Matt and Perry, reasoned together.

“Okay so, in those five years how many times has Becky stopped by this table to ask us how our day was going _before_ Ichabod started sitting with us?

“Umm. None.” Matt answered.

“Yep, never. And I even invited her to eat with me a couple of times, she is fucking hot.” Perry added.

“Okay so how many times has she came by here to ask how our day was going since Ichabod started sitting with us?”

“Like every single day. Dude, I don’t even get it. Am I missing something like what the fuck is it that this guy has that has these super-hot chicks _throwing_ themselves at him. Like is it the accent, because I could totally adopt a fake British accent.” Perry said.

Ichabod began to recall all of the extra kindness and attention Professor Murray seemed to give him. He simply reasoned she was being friendly, and welcoming because he was new to the academic establishment. She seemed to always end up seated next to him at department meetings, and one day she’d even brought him in some cookies she’d baked. _Oh no! No, no, no,no,no,no._ He thought. Ichabod believed he was agreeing to a casual social meeting, but he quickly came to realize that she very well may have had other plans in mind.

“Don’t do that, don’t.” Brenden stated.

“Don’t what don a fake British accent, because hell if it works.” Perry questioned.

“No. Don’t belittle my boy’s game, man. It’s not the accent. Give credit where credit is due. But _Professor Crane_ ” He added mimicking Becky’s voice, “What I want to know is, what you are going to tell your quote on quote roommate about your plans with Professor Murray.”

“Pardon?” Ichabod asked still in a daze.

“You know your roommate, the one that probably made that sandwich your ass is eating right now. What are you going to tell her?” Brenden quizzed.

Ever since about four months ago, his comrades had referred to Abbie as his roommate.   Brenden had invited them all to a small mixer at his home, and when it came time to introduce Abbie he paused. He didn’t quite know the proper way to introduce the love of your life who you adore, and want to be with, but can’t because a powerful demon threatened to steal her away, when you least expect it. Abbie spoke through his silence and introduced herself as his friend and roommate. He couldn’t blame her, that’s how they’d been living since Katrina’s death, and to be honest he hadn’t been much of a friend. He was cordial to her of course, but he kept his distance from her emotionally. He couldn’t help but to want her whenever he was near her, so he limited the leisure time they spent together and tripled his effort to kill Moloch. He’d even considered tendering his resignation to the college to focus more attention on the war. Ultimately, he decided that he needed the money to assist with their living expenses, and he also needed a steady stream of income to support some investments he’d began making.

Ichabod put his sandwich down. “There is nothing to tell, I will speak with Professor Murray at my earliest convenience and clear up any misunderstanding that we may have.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Perry inquired, taking a bite of his burger. Everyone seated at the table looked at him crazily. Ichabod hadn’t said anything specific, but he had sat with these gentlemen three days a week for over five months. During that time the only person he spoke about personally was Abbie, everyone could tell that he had feelings for her. Not to mention the incident that occurred at Brenden’s mixer.

“What?!” Perry asked sitting his drink down. “Look, I wasn’t going to say anything because she said you guys were just friends and roommates, and you confirmed that, you agreed. Even though later you tried to choke me just for complimenting her…”

Brenden eyes widened and he couldn’t help but interject.

“–No he didn’t try, he choked you, and you deserved it. And please stop acting as if you can’t comprehend why that situation popped off the way that it did. It didn’t matter if he said she was his friend, roommate, whatever, she was there _with_ him. This is what I mean when I say the game is destroyed. I complimented her, he didn’t choke me, Matt complimented her, and he didn’t get choked, Ichabod complimented my wife, I didn’t choke him, so obviously there was something wrong in the _way_ that you complimented her. I said hey, your lady friend, she’s beautiful, she seems like a really great girl. Bam, leave it at that, that’s how you compliment another man’s lady friend.   But you, first of all triple complimented her, and you did so disrespectfully, you started talking about her body, all sorts of offside shit, I still don’t see how you don’t understand why you got choked.”

Ichabod tensed, still somewhat embarrassed by how quickly and completely he had lost his temper that night. He was thankful that it was just the four of them in the basement.

“I get it, I got a little wasted, and said some things I shouldn’t have. I am sorry Ichabod, I was out of line.” Perry stated defensively.

Perry had already apologized and Ichabod had pretty much let it go, but he could still feel how angry he was after Perry went on and on about Abbie’s physical attributes, including her arse. What had thrown him over the edge is when he stated that if she were his roommate he would fuck her every single day and three times on Sunday’s. Then he proceeded to ask Ichabod for her number.

“It is water under the bridge.” Ichabod said tightly.

“Awesome, now all I’m saying is, look I know you dig her, but do you think it’s a good idea to push other women away, when you’re not sure that she feels the same?” Perry questioned.

Ichabod had not told them much of his life, the person he shared the most with was Brenden, and even he knew very little. No one knew he was a witness, that he had a wife who died in purgatory, and he reasoned that they wouldn’t have known of his feelings for Abbie be it not for the incident at the mixer. Abbie still loved him. He knew it, he felt it every time he was with her. What he didn’t understand was why Perry seemed concerned with any of this at all.

“It is merely an exercise in patience. Abbie, is to be mine, and I hers. Why should I waste the time of other women?” He stated casually.

“What I’m say is, does she know that?” Ichabod could feel a low bubble of anger rising from the pit of his stomach. Perry knew nothing about Abbie, and frankly he knew nothing about him.

“How do you mean?” Ichabod’s teeth gritted together without him even realizing it. Perry recognized that phrase well. They were the exact words Ichabod asked him shortly before he started choking him at the party.

“Whoa, I don’t mean it in a disrespectful, or inappropriate way at all. Give me a minute, and listen, you know that orphanage off of Bender’s Rd?” Everyone nodded their replies.

“Well my brother’s buddy Nick volunteers there, he coaches the kids in a few little league sports, baseball, basketball, I think floor hockey…”

“—Dude, we only have an hour, get to the point.” Brenden interrupted. “What does any of this have to do with Ichabod and his girl?”

“Right, so my brother asked me to drop off these shirts he’d had printed up as uniforms for some of the kids, and when I dropped them off I saw Abbie there talking to Nick.”

“Perhaps you’re mistaken, Abbie has volunteered there in the past, but she has been far too busy lately to find the time.” Ichabod stated returning to his sandwich.

“No it was her because a week or so later I mentioned it to my brother just in casual conversation, like hey I know one of the girls that volunteers there with Nick, she’s my friend’s roommate. He asked if I was talking about the short African American girl, with really pretty eyes, and long hair. I said yeah, oh so you know her too. He said yeah because Nick really digs her, he told me they’d been spending a lot of time together, and he thinks he’s going to close the deal pretty soon.”

“Close the deal?” Ichabod questioned stopping mid chew, and holding his sandwich in front of him.

“Like that’s what guys say in the states when they think they’ll be able to get a girl into bed.” Matt answered.

Ichabod sat up taller in his chair. “Ha, that is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. First, Abbie hasn’t mentioned anything to me about volunteering at an orphanage. Second, she has been very busy lately and has not been spending time with anyone outside of myself and her sister. And third, even if everything aforementioned is inaccurate she is extremely selective, I doubt this Nick fellow could ever live up to her…requirements.”  

Ichabod left out the one thing that eased his mind the most, Abbie was in love with him. Sure he hadn’t given her much of a reason to be since Katrina’s death, but a love like the one they share doesn’t simply disappear.

“Well he’s a super decent guy, he’s FBI, and I don’t really rate guys, but he’s not ugly, and he volunteers to help with orphans in his spare time, like what are her expectations. Besides when I was there it looked like the two of them were pretty chummy, I mean she was smiling a lot.”

“Okay, okay, okay. We get it, but that doesn’t mean anything. Some guy has the hot’s for her, the same way Becky has the hot’s for Crane.” Brenden said, sensing Ichabod becoming bothered.

“On the contrary Abbie does not become chummy as you call it with many people, perhaps the more plausible explanation for all of this is what I reasoned in the first place, that it was not her that you saw after all.” Ichabod reasoned.

“No, it was her.” Perry argued.

“How are you so sure?” Brenden asked.

“What, it’s not like I’ve only seen her one time, it was definitely her. Short girl, gorgeous face, tiny waist, and a _perfect_ ass, it was her.”

Ichabod lunged over the table and grabbed Perry by the collar before he could finish speaking.

“Did I not tell you once before to never speak of her arse again?” He said angrily, nostrils flaring wildly. The other men at the table quickly separated the pair, before anyone had a chance to see what was going on. Ichabod stood to clear his food.

Perry wrapped his hand around his throat trying to lessen the sting. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you, I should have just kept my fucking mouth shut. People always want to kill the messenger.”

“That has nothing to do with it. I warned you once before to never speak of her in that manner again, and you will find that I mean the words I speak Mr. Chambers.”

“Oh here we go with this Mr. Chambers shit again, Ichabod I’m your fucking friend, call me Perry or P for fucks sakes, I was just trying to help you. And how many times do I have to apologize, that was months ago. You said she was your roommate, it was an honest mistake.” Perry called as Ichabod started walking away.

Brenden caught up to him. “Yo, Ichabod. Hey man, come on, P didn’t mean anything by it, he’s just being P you know.”

“I do, it’s just…”

“Man I already know. Look don’t worry about it, in the couple of times I’ve met her it’s apparent she’s crazy about you. Look if you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” Brenden asked.

“I have, but not recently, it’s a rather delicate situation, and a very long story, for another time.” Ichabod stated.

“Oh word. Well look man, I hope it works out for you, let me know if you need anything, alright.”

“Thank you Bren,”

“Anytime, bro.”

 

Later that evening Abbie was in the middle of stretching with a group of kids when to her complete surprise Ichabod turned up at the orphanage. She immediately assumed that something had gone horribly wrong for him to track her down that way.

“Hey.” She said jogging over just as the kids were dividing into floor hockey teams.

“Good evening.” Ichabod said unable to get over how radiant she looked. A slight glow covered her face from her physical activity.

“Is there something wrong, how did you...” She didn’t want to say find me here, because she didn’t want to imply that she’d been hiding.

“I was driving by, and I saw your vehicle.” He said at first, and immediately felt guilty for lying. “Perry actually, mentioned that he… had seen you here before,” He said glancing in the direction of the blonde man Abbie was chatting with when he came in.

“So I drove by on my way home, and saw the truck.” He paused looking at her curiously. “I thought you had errands to run tonight?”

Abbie folded her arms detecting the sarcasm in his voice. “I was, this is one of them. Is there something wrong, do you need something?” She asked.

Ichabod drew his eyebrows together. “Why did you not ask me to join you?”  

Abbie sighed. “I don’t know it just seems like, lately when I ask you to do anything that has nothing to do with killing Moloch you’re disinterested. So, I didn’t really think you’d be game for this, and it’s important to me, so I decided to do it alone. I need this, you know, it helps me to remember why it is we do what we do.”

“Is that how I appear, disinterested in things that are important to you?” Ichabod looked at her a bit taken aback, and then started walking to the other side of the gym.

“Great.” She mumbled, watching as he stalked across the gym. She was shocked when he stopped near the door and pulled off his overcoat and jacket, placed them in a chair, and headed back toward her.

“So precisely how is it, that one plays such a game.” He asked. Abbie’s face spread into the widest smile she’d had in months.

She took a moment to introduce Ichabod to Nick and the kids. She laughed when the children all gathered around him telling him how funny he spoke, and asking him where he was from.

“One question at a time you guys.” Abbie reminded them.

“Ichabod, that’s a really funny sounding name.” Jenny chirped. Ichabod kneeled down to talk to the little girl.

“You’re quite right, I think it’s a rather odd sounding name as well. What is your name?” He asked.

“Jenny,” The small girl beamed. Aimlessly putting her hands on top of her curly red hair.

“Why did you know that Miss Abbie has a sister named Jenny?” He asked.

“Noooo.” She sang looking at Abbie for conformation.

“I sure do.” Abbie said cheerfully.

“Jenny is a very pretty name.” He said smiling.

“Thank you.” Jenny chimed.

“Your welcome.”

Abbie stepped back smiling watching Ichabod interact with the children. He was so comfortable with them, and they really seemed to like him as well. She was happy that he seemed to hit it off with Delton, the child she had most closely bonded with. He was quieter than the other kids, and didn’t warm up to people easily. When she finally looked away she caught Nick peering at her, as she watched Ichabod. Just last week he had asked her out. She could tell for a while that he had been building up to it, and did her best to discourage him, but he came over just as she was getting into her car and asked if she’d like to get a drink sometime. She let him down easy, basically telling him that she wasn’t in a good place to pursue a relationship.

Later that evening Ichabod and Abbie sat by the fire, sipping cocoa having a conversation about something other than Moloch in what felt like the first time in months. The talked about everything from his work, to current events, and a list of movies they should watch if they ever had time. Inevitably the conversation led to her volunteer activities at the orphanage.

“I find it quite remarkable…the fact that you thought to give your time in that way, particularly when already you have so precious little of it to yourself.” He commented placing his mug on the coffee table.

“When I was little, there were a lot of good people, who did the same for me, I mean I wasn’t in an orphanage, but, I spent a lot of time in programs for disadvantaged children so…just trying to do my part.” Abbie replied lazily. She had become drowsy from the long day, and the warm fire was only pushing her further toward sleep.

“So this fellow Mr. Hawley, is he a good friend of yours?” Ichabod asked nonchalantly.

Abbie leaned her head back against the couch pillows. “Uhh, no not really, Why do you ask?”

Ichabod glanced furtively in her direction. “Merely wondering, you seemed very friendly with him…and he seems to be rather fond you.” He added.

Abbie shrugged. She could detect a tinge of jealousy brewing in Ichabod, but she wasn’t about to jump to rest his head when he hadn’t done the same for her these past few months. In fact, when she’d come to his office to drop off a plant earlier this year she seen a plateful of fresh baked cookies with a flirty note attached. She wasn’t snooping per se but she did take notice that they were from Professor Murray, this blonde with huge boobs she’d met at his friend’s party last fall. She wondered if that was the reason he showed up at the orphanage earlier, because he’d gotten word that she was working closely Nick. It hurt a little, she had hoped that he was just interested in spending time with her, in seeing her. Not in determining whether someone else was doing so.

“It’s late, I’m going to head up to bed.” She said rising into a stretch before gathering up their mugs.

Ichabod stood, and took her mug just as she was reaching for his. “Allow me. I am going to sit and watch the fire a little longer. I bid you goodnight.” He said quietly, a little sad that she was leaving his company.

“Oh thanks,” Abbie said fighting off a yawn. “Well I’ll see you”—a big yawn escaped from her mouth—“I’m sorry, in the morning.” She smiled, “Goodnight Ichabod Crane.”

He bowed, eliciting a small chuckle from her.

“Oh and Abbie.” He called just as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked over her shoulder to see him. “Yes?”

“Thank you for a most pleasant evening. It was the most enjoyable time that I have had in a long while.” He said wistfully.

She felt her brows come together as she bit her bottom lip. “Me too.”

 

* * *

 

That night Abbie thought Ichabod had turned a corner, but in the weeks to follow she realized that he was heading the other direction. They worked tirelessly pursuing Moloch, spending every single second of time they had to spare, and quite a few they didn’t trying to draw him out. Ichabod wanted so badly to tell Abbie that his feelings hadn’t changed, that she was a large part of the reason he was so desperate to kill Moloch. Every night he lay upon her floor, fighting the urge to crawl into her bed, take her into his arms, and make love to her until sun rise. After spending the day with her at the orphanage he was painfully reminded of everything he was missing out on. He wanted that life, a regular quiet one, with her, and he wanted it now. But first he needed to kill Moloch. He peered over at her now, sensing that she was becoming disillusioned with his insatiable desire to pursue Moloch. A winter storm was settling in as the witnesses drove along the snow trodden trail to the cabin in a thick uncomfortable silence. Their battles had been growing increasingly grotesques, and it was easier to walk into a secluded cabin covered in blood than a suburban home. She glanced over at Crane to see him covered in the blood of the wicked. Nearly an hour before she watched as he dealt a hessian a blow so powerful that it literally split him in two.

When they arrived home, Abbie walked straight into the bathroom. She stood under the shower-head while the hot water washed over her. It was Thursday and already the third time this week she had co-washed her hair. Though she’d been around it numerous times she could never get used to the smell of death. It seemed the scent, or rather the memory of it managed to stay with her long after the battle was over.   She shuddered remembering Ichabod’s actions. She was fighting with the Hessian and finally got him on the ropes. She was trying to capture him, and submit him to questioning, but suddenly tripped over uneven turf allowing him the upper hand. The last thing she remembered was his large hand clasping around her neck before the force of Ichabod’s sword separated the hemispheres of his head. The fact that he was dead before his body hit the ground didn’t stop Ichabod from kicking him repeatedly until she pulled him away.

“Do give my regards to Moloch, tell him I’m coming for him!” He called out to the corpse. Abbie quickly finished cleansing and stepped out of the shower. Judging from the way he looked, Ichabod was going to need all the hot water they had, and some they didn’t.

While Crane showered Abbie whipped up a batch of turkey sausage zuppa, it was one of his favorites. She hoped that it would put him in a good mood, and he’d be more open to the things she needed to say to him. He’d been in his present state long enough, and she worried that if she didn’t find a way to reach him soon, it would be too late, and he would stay in it forever. They still hadn’t spoken of the declarations made in the hotel room, the kisses, the intimacy, none of it. She assumed he felt a certain guilt behind it, even though it had been six months since Katrina passed, he hadn’t said or done anything to affirm that he still felt the same. Truth be told she felt a certain guilt behind it as well, even though they had never made love, just the thought that she at one time possessed something that didn’t rightfully belong to her, his heart.

“It smells delightful.”

“Hey!” A startled Abbie bellowed turning from the stove. “I didn’t hear you come in, I hope it tastes as good as it smells.” She added.

“I’m certain it will be wonderful.” He said flatly ambling toward her. That was when she really allowed herself to look at him. He always looked so handsome fresh out of the shower, and the smell of his soap was simply unnerving. He was wearing thin gray pajama bottoms, and a white v-neck t-shirt. His damp hair waved slightly around his face. She smiled to herself hoping her task would be made easier by the much improved mood he seemed to be in. Much to her surprise he kept moving toward her and didn’t stop until his hand clung loosely around her waist. She took in a broken breath and gazed up at him. He met her eyes and saw immediately that hers was a look of befuddlement.  

“Pardon me, you’ve gone through such trouble, the least I can do is ready the table.” He said edging her towards the other end of the stove, so he could open the cupboard and grab their bowls.

“Oh…thanks” she briefly bent her lips upward.

“Of course.” He smiled.

They pair had only just started eating when Ichabod remarked upon the raids he hoped to execute in the morning. Abbie sighed pushing her bowl away in frustration. When he scoffed at her suggestion that perhaps they could use a day to recuperate, she stood up from the table.

“Miss Mills.” He said his eyes widening. He’d been with her all day, and knew the cereal she’d eaten at breakfast wasn’t enough to sustain her.

“Abbie!” He exclaimed as she tossed her bowl into the sink.

Abbie pushed herself away from the counter and pulled her elastic band out of her ponytail allowing her curls to fall loose. She dug her fingertips into her scalp trying to massage away the stress she felt coming on.

“Your body requires sustenance, you must eat,” Ichabod cautioned as he grabbed her another bowl from the cupboard.

“No, I’m not hungry. Just..” she sighed moving a few curly tendrils out of her face. “Just answer me this question. Do you even hear yourself right now? All you’re concerned with are these raids, it’s like it’s ruling you, it’s consuming you.”

“I fail to see the problem with that. This is our duty is it not, to wage this war.” He countered moving to her.

“Are we?”

“I beg your pardon.” Ichabod questioned growing irritated.

“Are we actually fighting a war or just keeping busy, and exhausting ourselves in battle after battle. How do we even know that these victories are meaningful? What if they’re just fools’ errands Moloch is putting before us to keep us from doing what we actually should be doing, which is killing him.”

“And how pray-tell do you recommend that we kill Moloch without first killing those who stand before him on the frontlines?”

At this point he’s standing directly over Abbie causing her to hold her head nearly straight up when replying to him. It was the closest they had been in months. Their voices were raised, tinted with bitterness, and Abbie still couldn’t help but be completely attracted to him.

“I didn’t say that I had all the answers Crane, I don’t know exactly how we kill him, but we’ve already killed so many…so, so many of his troops, and I don’t feel like we’re any closer to getting him so maybe it’s time to try a different approach.” She argued.

Ichabod considers Abbie’s words. He takes a moment to let them soak in fully and reflect, and for the first time in a long time Abbie thinks he’s listening to reason. He slowly shakes his head.

“No. No. This is the way, it will work. We’ll continue to weaken his forces until they’re so depleted that we can overtake him.”

“So just like that, you call all the shots huh?” Abbie said rolling her eyes. “Well I’m not on board with this, and I’m not doing it this way _anymore_.” She says emphasizing every syllable the last word. She turns and starts heading to the bedroom to get some rest, she can hear that he’s still talking but she’s done listening.

“Lieutenant, Lieutenant.” He calls. She hears him close the space behind her before she feels his hand gripping her arm and turning her back around.

“I am still speaking Abbie, do not simply walk away from me.” He says with just a little too much attitude in his tone for her liking.

“We’re not going to agree on this Crane, at least not tonight anyway, maybe we should just call it, and talk about it in the morning.” She reasoned.

“In the morrow the war resumes.” He stoops down so he can look her square in the eyes, and softens his tone.

“Moloch’s forces are weakening with our every victory. It shan’t be long before we’ve defeated him, we cannot abandon our present course merely because it has yet to yield the returns _you_ desire.”

Abbie shakes her head. “You’re not listening, you are not listening,” she says slowly. “We are no closer to killing him then we were six months ago. And worse I watch you out there, I can see the sick, twisted, satisfaction you get with every enemy slain. The pleasure I see in your eyes whenever you send one of them to their death…Crane it’s disturbing.”

“So I should not be pleased when our efforts prove victorious?” He spat.

“That’s not what I’m saying, all I’m saying is we can’t become so consumed with defeating the enemy that in doing so we become just like them.” As soon as the words escape her mouth she regrets saying them. Not because she didn’t mean them, but rather because she couldn’t bare the way they affected him.

Everything stops. A vacant glare spreads across Ichabod’s face.

“You think …you think me a monster?” He asks unable to hide how much her words shocked and hurt him. Abbie looks away, and after she fails to answer him he walks over to the window and stares out of it.

“You are correct Lieutenant. You should go to bed, we are not going to resolve this issue this evening.”

“Ichabod it isn’t that, I don’t know what to say. I lost people to this war too, I know it hurts, losing Katrina….losing Jeremy”, her voices cracks because saying that name, Jeremy, the one in which they never spoke, was a full recognition of all he lost. Abbie kept looking his direction wishing he would turn and face her, but not at all surprised that he didn’t.

“I can’t even imagine, but all of that anger…all of that pain, you can’t let it overtake you this way. Ichabod, you have to let it go.”

“Let it go?” He turns and looks at her incredulously. “I see, so Moloch kills my wife, and tries to murder my infant child and even now he seeks….” He pauses deciding some things are better left unsaid. “I should just let it go?” He questions his tone raising.

“No, no, I’m not asking you to forget what he’s done, but the pain its caused you, the way you blame yourself when there is _nothing_ you could have done to stop this. I’m not asking you to forgive Moloch, I’m asking you to forgive yourself.” They stand there in silence for what feels like the longest time, Ichabod not acknowledging that he heard her words, and Abbie unable to summon any new ones that feel worth anything. She wonders if he even loves her anymore, it all seems so long ago that she wonders if he ever did.

After a while she starts putting on her boots but doesn’t fully realize she’s leaving until she has her keys in her hand. Ichabod can hear that she was getting things around, he can hear her shuffling and moving about, but is still surprised when he hears the door close. His fingers flex anxiously at his side at the sound of it. He makes his way through the cabin in record time and catches her by the elbow just as her feet are touching the snow in the driveway. She yanks her arm away only to have him grab a hold of her with two hands.

She stands facing her car while his hands wrapped around her elbows from behind. “Please let me go, I’ll come back for you in the morning. I just…. I want to go home.” She pleads.

_Tell her Ichabod. Tell her the simple truth, you’re afraid of losing her, and the mere thought of it takes you to a place darker than you’ve ever known. Tell her of the warning Moloch levied in purgatory. Tell her not to go—beg her if you must, beg her to stay._ Ichabod released Abbie from his grasp, but she didn’t move. She stood there waiting for him to say something, anything that could help her to understand. Praying that he would wrap his arms around her the way he did on that dance floor all those months ago, and ask her to stay.  

“The roads will become treacherous before long, you will call when you have reached your destination so that I will know you arrived safely?”

Her heart sank.

“I will.”

She had hoped when he came after her that he was actually coming after her. That they could mend things tonight, that he would apologize for the way he’s been acting. She turned to him after fastening her safety belt.

“Just remember Ichabod, it was foretold that we would wage this war for seven years, it may be some time before we kill Moloch. We need to be patient, slow and steady wins the race.”

On the way home Abbie felt tears swelling behind her eyes like storm clouds on a hot day. She kept them inside. Her mind was on autopilot during the familiar trip home, giving her lots of time to digest the feelings of disappointment she had about the derision between her and Crane. Even with everything she’d gone through in her life she couldn’t recall ever feeling so lost. Her mind sifted through some of the memories from the past six months, this weird mode of being they’d fallen into. She felt defeated in the fact that she couldn’t reach him. He was someplace that their all-encompassing bond couldn’t bring him back from, and she was terrified that he would never make it back on his own. Images of him, of them, laughing, crying, fighting speckled through her mind, the glimpse of a deer along the edge of the road reminded her to come out of her thoughts and pay attention. Ichabod stood in the spot that Abbie left him for nearly fifteen minutes after she’d gone. It was freezing, and he was coatless, but he doubted that he would feel any warmer inside. He wouldn’t last another six years this way, not being able to treat her as he should…as he wanted to. Watching her shrug off her coat, and step out of her boots after a long day. Seeing the weariness across her face, and tension in her posture as she poured herself a glass of wine. Wanting to take the short steps to her, wrap his arms around her, and squeeze her until every drop of her awful day was erased. But he couldn’t for fear of Moloch, so he stood there, watching her, not being the man that she needed him to be.  

“Jenny? Jen!” Abbie called out into the empty room. She looked around the room spying a note lying on the table next to the front entrance.

_Bells, staying at Frank’s tonight, see you two in the morrow, lol love Jenny._ She had drawn a little smiley face next to her signature which drew a quick smile from Abbie. She was glad that her sister found someone who made her happy, and treated her so well. She glanced around the room and quickly talked herself out of an array of things she needed to do, and headed up for bed. An hour later she was sitting in her bed reading when she thought she heard a clicking noise coming from downstairs. She sat up abruptly, opening her nightstand and removing her firearm. She headed toward the stairs shivering against a chill that was also creeping through the hallway. Her tank top and boy shorts provided her with little warmth outside of her bed.

“Jenny, is that you?” There was no response, as she stealthily moved down the staircase. “Listen I don’t know who, or what is down there but I am a trained, armed, police officer and…”

“—Miss Mills?”

“Ugh!” Abbie breathed a sigh of relief as Ichabod appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She lowered her gun to her side.

“Crane what the hell, I could have hurt you, I thought you were staying at the cabin?” she question continuing down the stairs making sure to restore the safety lock on her gun.

“And I thought you would call when you arrived home.” He lobbed.

“Oh.” She said bringing her hand to her forehead. “It just slipped my mind, I completely forgot I’m sorry. How did you come all this way? You couldn’t have walked, and your car’s in the garage.” she said looking at the clock.

“I called the taxi cab service.” He replied stiffly. Abbie cocked her head to the side trying to gain more understanding for him travelling all this way.

“I was worried…when I did not receive word from you.” He offered.

“Wow,” Abbie said realizing the gravity of her oversight. “My bad, I really should have called, but like I said it slipped my mind. Look, I can reimburse you for having to waste money on a cab.”

Ichabod stepped closer to her with an incredulous look on his face. _Oh fuck_ she thought, wondering why she said that. She knew it was going to piss him off before the words even left her mouth. Even though she was standing on the bottom step she still had to look up at him, and the way he was looking made her not want to look at him at all. She pushed past him and walked into the living room setting her weapon on an end table. Ichabod turned after her.

“What in God’s name are you talking about Abbie?” His voice raised a bit. “You think I want your currency, you coin?” He spit out bitterly.

“I didn’t say that, I did not. Say that.” Abbie reiterated bringing holding her had up.

“But you implied it, did you not. I am employed Abbie, I earn a wage. I do not care about the cab ride, and I am not concerned about the cab fare, my only concern is you!” He said with such authority she couldn’t help but meet his eyes. She rolled her bottom lip under her teeth.

Ichabod ran his hand though his loose hair in an effort to steady his emotions. He moved closer still to Abbie, speaking softer.

“Earlier when you left, you said that you just wanted to go home, and I realized I wanted to go home as well.”

Abbie folded her arms and across her chest while nodding impatiently. “Mm hmm, mm hmm, mm hmm,” She said in rapid succession. “I get that. Everything you know is from another time, another place.”

“—Allow me to finish please.” She raised her eyebrows because he rarely ever interrupted her while she was speaking.”

“I realized that home, for me, isn’t here or there…rather it’s with you. Wherever you are is where I am home…so when you took your leave I realized that you did not feel the same."  He said carefully. Abbie’s mouth opened and all of the air in her lungs seemed to flow out. She didn’t know if it was embarrassment or shyness, but for some reason she couldn’t look at him, so she just stared down at the floor.

“Earlier…you said that I was becoming like our adversaries, I disagree, but I understand how you might have come to see it that way. But know now, I am no monster Abbie.”

His chest was pounding, and she was standing so close he wondered if she could hear it. “Moloch seeks to take away _everything_ that I love….”

He thought about his next words briefly but carefully, arranging them in his head until he mustered up the courage to say them out loud. Because it was the first time he had the right to say such words to her, and he wanted to get it right. His hands reached over to hers and encircled them. He had allowed her to keep her eyes cast downward, because he knew that despite this, she heard him. But his next words, he wanted her to not only hear, but see him say as well, so she could look upon his face, and never have to question their veracity. He gazed down at her, overcome by the way his heart reacted to her beauty. Amazed and grateful for the way in which she conducted herself after Katrina’s passing, when he was stilted, and angry, and hurt, and reclusive. Too afraid of losing her to tell her that he still loved her, too foolish to show her that she still controlled his heart. He gave her absolutely nothing, and suitors called upon her promising positively everything for a mere chance, but she turned them away. He wrapped one of his large hands around her waist while the other one pulled her chin up until their eyes met.

“And I have never loved anything in my entire life, the way that I love you.” His said softly, “He threatened to steal you away, that day in purgatory. To take you from my very arms, so I began reason that perhaps it was best if you were never in them. I cannot lose you… I won’t. I can’t let him hurt you…touch you.”   A few tears that he’d be holding back finally escaped his eyes.

“Can you not see, Abbie. I have to kill him, I have to get to him before he comes for you. If it happens that I must run my sword through the skulls of thousands of his disciples then I will. And I will _not_ apologize for it. If I have to become this monster you think me to be in order for you to remain safe, then so be it.”

Abbie was speechless. She didn’t know what she was feeling or what to say.   She had no idea that he was afraid for her safety, all this time he was afraid to show her the way he felt because of Moloch’s pattern of attacking those dearest to him. She knew it well, he had done the same thing to her. She realized that he thought he was protecting her, and maybe he was, but she still wished that he would have let her in. She gazed up at him in amazement her tongue finally managing to untie itself.

“Ichabod, why didn’t you tell me…” She began resting her palms against his chest unsure whether it was to feel closer to him or to keep him away. He hurt her. His silence, his distance, it still hurt. How could she trust him again after he shut her out so thoroughly and completely. Abbie was never the jump out of the window, crazy for love type of girl, but something about him…something in him, made her want to give him everything, without censor. The only problem was that she was no longer sure that she could do so without being hurt.

“You should have told me, we…” She sighed. “We could have dealt with this together, but shutting me out the way you did.” She shook her head. Ichabod cupped her head between his hands, sliding his fingers through the hair along the nape of her neck.

“I know.” He whispered. She could feel his breath on her, and it reminded her how so very long it had been since they were close in this way. Her shoulders instinctually curved toward him, but her hands remained between them on guard. She missed him, their conversation, his quirky little quips, and outlooks on everything. He was just gone, there in the flesh but gone, and every time she went after him, that she thought she was reaching him, he disappeared again.

“No. You don’t know. I was alone, I thought you’d changed your mind about us...about me.” She said looking up at him through tearful eyes. “You…hurt me.” She breathed.

Ichabod heart broke hearing those words from her. He looked into her beautiful eyes and silently cursed himself knowing that he was the one responsible for putting the tears there.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered resting his head against hers. “I’m so sorry…” He repeated becoming weak at the sound of her soft sigh. He tilted his head so that the side of his lips lightly rested against the top of her cheek as he spoke.

“Tonight after you drove off, I watched after you until I could see your car no more, I missed you instantly. I know now that I never should have let you go, and when you failed to call, I began to imagine the worst. My attempts to phone went unanswered, and I was frantic, I was…mad. Throughout the duration of my journey here, I could not stop considering the amount of time that I have wasted. Being afraid. Being stubborn, and arrogant. Being everything except for what you most needed me to be, which is here.” He dropped his head so that his lips hung directly next to hers.

“I’m here now.” He said quietly. “And if you’ll have me, I promise to never leave you alone again. Can you forgive me?”

Abbie was silent aside from a heavy breath that slipped through her lips, followed by the quiet sound from the back of her throat when she attempted to swallow the lump sitting in it. Ichabod felt the wetness from one of her tears after it slid down her cheek and settled against his.

“Apple please.” He whispered, giving into his urges, moving his mouth to hers, and stealing a long sensuous peck from her lips. Abbie whimpered realizing she was undone the moment he touched her. Only he could do her this way.

“Forgive me.” He whispered against her lips. Abbie could feel the fear, and pain of their unspoken estrangement coming to a head, just as the relief that it was over came flooding in. All of the emotion, mixing and swirling throughout her heart, and spirit overwhelmed her and came spilling out. Her tears fell freely.

“I missed you so much.” She cried. His soft lips collided with hers as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Ichabod coiled his long limbs around her encasing her shoulders in his strong arms. He kissed her with all fury of the unspent love and adoration of the past months. To have her soft lips pressed against his, rightfully, under no rouse or guise left him completely overjoyed. His bones rejoiced to hold her again. An internal explosion rippled through Abbie’s body as he parted her lips with his tongue. His fingers splayed through her still slightly damp curls while his other arm wraps around her waist pulling her tighter against him. They broke the kiss momentarily trying to calm their erratic breath.

“You shall never have to miss me again, I swear it.” Ichabod immediately leaned forward humming a slew of I’m sorries as he kissed, and nipped her jawline and neck. Abbie moaned before slowly moving backwards until she felt the wall against her shoulders. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy everything he was doing to her, quite the opposite, she liked it so much she didn’t trust her legs to hold.  

Ichabod’s shoulders heaved rigorously as he peered at her confused as to why she moved away from him.

“Abbie?” He questioned even more so with his eyes than his mouth, worried that he’d left her heart unattended too long. That he’d left her questions unanswered, for such an extended duration that she began to answer them herself. What if she didn’t truly want this anymore? What if she didn’t want him?

Abbie rested her head against the wall.

“Come here” she reaching out to him. Relief soaked through his body, as he quickly strode over to her, swooning over her weepy eyes, and swollen lips. If Moloch, or anyone else was coming for her, they had better bring all of hell with them, because he would move all of heaven to keep her safe. He bent down to take her lips again, softly, sucking and nibbling. The height difference was vast to say the least. He stood in his cloggy winter boots, while she rested upon her bare feet. When he felt her knee bend and rise against the side of his leg he took the opportunity to slide his hands down her sumptuous curves and cup the back of her thighs. Abbie was so far in the clouds, she barely noticed when her feet actually came off the ground.  Smooth heavenly legs encircled his waist like a halo as he pinned her against the wall.  A deep low groan escaped him and fell against the side of her mouth as his long fingers tightened around her bottom. His arousal felt like titanium against her damp center as he ground his hips in a circular motion while simultaneously pulling her closer against him. He kissed her, continuing his movements until suddenly he thrust his hips into her with uninhibited force. Abbie thought she was going to come at that very moment, she gripped him in her arms as breathy moans slid from her lips.  The little nub at the top of her womanhood swelled crying for more. Abbie was certain this was as close as they could get without him actually being inside of her. Her whimpers caused him to pull his tongue from her mouth, stilling for a moment as his teeth lightly pulled her top lip between them. He could feel his closed eyes rolling to the top of his head as she suckled his bottom lip.

( _Kiss)_ “Do you…feel mmm” _(Kiss)_ “What you do to me?” He asked sliding his tongue between her lips.

“Mmm, what you’ve always done to me, Abbie.” He pushed his throbbing length into the crux between her legs. How could she not feel him, she reasoned as his thick member brought her to the edge of insanity.

“I desire you.” He confessed, before returning to her lips with a deep passionate kiss. For the life of him he couldn’t keep his mouth off of her for more than three seconds. He raised his lips from hers long enough to find her eyes.

Abbie listened as whispers crooned from his lips. “I desire you. I want you…I want to make love to you Apple, this instant.” He kept his eyes trained on hers.

“Do you want me?” He asked in a voice lower than she’d ever heard him use. Her entire body pulsed with need. She brought one of her hands from around his neck and held it to his cheek.

“More than anything.” she replied looking directly into his eyes. His heart skipped a beat. He knew then that she was his, to do with as he pleased, just as he was hers. He slowly lowered her down long enough to remove his coat and shoes. His stayed with her the entire time, watched her shoulders rise and fall against the wall. A moment after he lay his coat across the couch he carefully scooped her up and carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. Her hands and lips played at his face and neck all the way. He entered the dark room and left it that way, placing her on her feet just in front of the bed.

Within seconds he’d lit the candles on his dresser and nightstand. He wanted to light the ones positioned upon his other night stand but he came back to kiss her, in-between, and didn’t have the strength to leave her again. His hand fell against her head, pushing her curls out of her face. Abbie brazenly gazed into his eyes even though the unrestrained longing she found there brought about a shyness she couldn’t quite hide. He found her shyness both amusing and appealing, it was such a contrast to how he was used to seeing her, so dominant, and in control. He felt privileged that only he got to see this vulnerable side of her.

Ichabod knew there were a few men before him, but he also knew that they didn’t matter. He knew this partially because she told him so, and partially because standing before her just then, it became clear that she was _his_ woman. It was as if God took the very rib from his side, and created her just for him. So how could she have ever been another’s, when she had belonged to him from the start? She couldn’t, and if she didn’t know already, he vowed to prove it to her tonight. He lifted his cotton shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. She just stared at him, drinking in his broad shoulders and lean muscle. Their definition a testament to all of the strength she knew he contained. Those shoulders that along with hers, had been charged with carrying the weight of the world.

“Come here.” he whispered grabbing her around her waist and pulling her into a tender kiss. He slipped his fingertips beneath her tank top, and slowly pulled it over her head revealing her bare breast. The air in his lungs made a speedy exit. His eyes were fixated upon her in awe, as he carefully took the weight of her breast into his hand, dragging his fingers along her nipples. He spun her around so that his back was to the bed instead of hers, and sat down. He pulled her between his legs making eye contact with her just before his tongue slipped from between his lips, tasting her nipple before taking the whole of it inside of his mouth. Abbie’s head fell back, and Ichabod tightened his grip around her keeping her steady as he licked, nibbled and suckled her breasts. He took his time, giving his full attention to each one. That was right around the time when Abbie began to feel like her had four hands. He caressed her so perfectly, driving her wild with the interplay between his tongue, and lips. She hissed as he gently squeezed her delicate nipples between his teeth. He was all over her wanting to touch and taste every part of her. She wilted under the feel of his rough axe wielding hands over her smooth skin so much so she almost surrendered to climax from that alone. The next thing she knew he was running his hands up her outer thighs until his fingers disappeared beneath her boy shorts. He pulled them down slowly, admiring the treasure hidden beneath them as he slid them off of her legs. His eye twinkled as they fell to her little patch of curls, watching as she stepped out of her panties. When he finally did tear his eyes away from her sex, his lips parted as his orbs travelled the span of her figure with look of lustful wonder.

“Abbie.” He shook his head in amazement. “You’re flawless.”

By now she was shaking, not that she was still feeling shy, just full of nervous anticipation and excitement. Her hands gently stroked his beard, and he quickly grasped them and brought them to his lip. This entire time he had kept Abbie’s hands from drifting too much across his body, he was already overly excited just from touching her, from looking at her. Her touch made every cell in his body want to explode. Without standing he took her in his arms, laid her across the bed, and began stealthily crawling over her covering her body with tender kisses.  All the while, failing to notice her moving her hand toward his cock until he felt her tiny fingers gripping him through his cotton sweatpants. A broken cry slid from his mouth as he buried his head in the space between her neck and shoulder. He reached down pulling the offending hand up over her head trying to regain his breath.

“Abbie.” He croaked, and she knew. She knew that she mustn’t touch him there, or this will be over before it even begins. He stood simultaneously removing his pants and boxers. On his return to the bed he noticed Abbie’s eyes had grown to the size of saucers. She looked at him slack-jawed, her eyes only briefly had the chance to admire how beautifully his waist intersected with the top of his hip before they took in what resided a few inches below. He lied to her, he was a monster. Her legs instinctually closed, and she slowly inched away from him as he sought to resume his position.

“Abbie…Abigail, we can take things as slow as you wish. If you have had a change of heart, or if you simply do not want...”  

Abbie sat up keeping her legs closed, and to her side. “—I want to Ichabod, I still want to be with you, it’s just…” she pursed her lips, and pulled a pillow in front of her as she gawked at the anaconda between his legs. How could she tell him that she’d never been with a man as… _blessed_ as him? Further, she felt as though her first lover, who was of average length, fit her perfectly. She couldn’t imagine taking anything bigger than him, and Ichabod was clearly thicker and longer. Still she felt embarrassed telling him, if for nothing else, the fact that he was already arrogant and cocky as hell. He slid next to her, threw her pillow to the floor, and ran his hand along her contours as he took her lips with his.

“Just what my love?”

“You need to be” _Don’t say it, Don’t say it, Don’t say it._ She squeezed her eyes shut. “Gentle.” _Oh my God, could I sound more corny and weak, it’s not like he’s going to break it, wait could he break it?_

“Abbie.” He said as his mouth drug over her shoulder. “Open your eyes.” She did as requested and almost drowned in the blackened pools staring back at her.

“You never need to feel afraid or embarrassed to share anything whatsoever with me.” He drug his tongue and lips along her jawline, and spoke between nibbles and kisses. “You are the very whole of my heart.”

He gently eased her back, sliding his fingers behind her neck. “I need you to trust me…I will _never_ hurt you. Alright?” He asked. Abbie nodded her head.

“Alright.”

He placed a soft kiss to her lips, fingers dipping into the seam of her still tightly closed legs.  

“Abbie…open your legs for me.” He whispered with a quiet confidence.

Her breathing was out control as his lips returned to her. His hand slipped up her shaking thighs as she slowly spread them open.

“Do you trust me?” he asked settling in between them.

Abbie cried out at the feel of his arousal rubbing against the wetness of her center. “I need to hear you say it.” Ichabod demanded grinding himself against her while thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

“I…Oh!” She cried as his fingers reached down and traced along the outside of her slick labia.

“I trust you” She said breathlessly, nearly hyperventilating as he pushed his finger just inside of her wet folds. With that he began his descent downward. He took the scenic route exploring every nook and cranny, as attentive as a student given a study guide for a next day exam. He committed every touch, caress, kiss, suck, bite, lick and their elicited response to memory. Noting the way her belly jumped under his heavy breath, and the way her entire body twisted when his teeth and tongue slid across her thigh. The soft moans she breathed as he levied kisses against the middle of her calf. When he got to her toes he kissed them before making his way back up to the spot he had purposely avoided. He watched her body trembling with tension as he slid his hand along her leg and lifted it over his shoulder. He tightly gripped her thighs, moistened his lips, and ever so slowly let them fall to her vertical ones.

“Ugh.” He heard her cry as her palms slapped and pressed into the mattress. He opened his mouth on her sliding his tongue up through her slippery folds. She gently grabbed a fistful of his locks, moaning under the contact. Her head swiveled against the mattress, as Ichabod slipped his tongue upward and flattened it over her tiny jewel. The top of her head pressed into the bed as her back arched off of it completely.

“Icha! Ugh…Baby mmmm.” She moaned. He raised his head knowing she was already close to her climax. The first time she orgasmed for him, she would do so with every inch of him buried deep inside of her. She would feel his chest upon her bosom, and mouth covering her lips, and when she came, she would open her eyes to his, and remember precisely how she got there. Still he wanted so badly to continue tasting her, he’d only just started and wasn’t nearly finished, but he didn’t want to risk her climaxing. In the future she would climax this way, and then again as he made love to her, but not tonight. He looked down at her peach, tilting his head to the side, he gently opened her with him thumbs and hummed farewell kisses over her sweet spot.

“Mmm I promise you, I am coming back.” He whispered to it. He wiped her from his mouth and kissed his way back up to her lips. Abbie could taste herself on his lips as her tongue slipped past his. He slid a finger down to check her readiness, and she could have sworn she her a ‘fuck’ mumbled against her lips as his finger delved into her taut flower.  He closed his eyes at the feel of her wrapped around his digit.

“Ahh, Abbie cried with pleasure. When Ichabod found himself growing jealous of his own fingers he knew he couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Remember love, you can tell me anything, if it is too painful, or you wish to stop, you must tell me so.” Abbie nodded, widening her legs for him. Ichabod reached down and grabbed himself feeling pre-cum already coating his enlarged head. His length throbbed in his hand as he traced his head along her soaked labia before setting himself in front of her entrance. He took her lips as he began gently pushing himself inside of her. As soon as the tip was in he wanted nothing more than to drive his hip forward and search for her bottom. A desire, and want like he’d never experienced flashed through his body, and he felt himself using every single muscle to keep from thrusting into her. It took all of his strength to go slowly. Between his grunts, and moans he inquired about her well-being, every inch forward. He was nearly all in when he felt her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“Apple,” He groaned out. “Can you take more of me…ohhh, my God…or should I stop here.” He panted.

Honestly he hurt a little, but at the same time Abbie felt a pleasure like she’d never experienced before. The mixture of that pain and pleasure was driving her wild, and she had no intention of allowing him to stop. He’d done everything he could to make her ready, she was relaxed and literally dripping wet, she knew that she just needed to adjust to his size.

“Mmm..Mor, more” she begged between breaths. He pushed the last of him inside of her, their mouths opened against one another’s as the shock of how good it felt fell over them. He held still at the bottom of the stroke, nearly paralyzed, as every muscle in his body stretched. It was as if they were both fighting for the same air. As soon as he felt how wonderful she felt sheathed around him he knew he wouldn’t last as long as he thought he could. He immediately begin covering her in kisses, happy that he didn’t hurt her, grateful that she took all of him, that she didn’t make him pull back. He had planned on letting her finish then removing himself and finishing upon her belly, but he knew he would barely manage to let her finish first, let alone last through her finishing and growing any tighter around him. He hadn’t asked permission to finish inside of her.

He should have asked before he put himself in because now that he was, he couldn’t think rationally, and he damn sure couldn’t speak. He began slowly stroking in and out of her reveling in the feel of her warm sex around him. The only sounds filling the room were their moans, along with the squeaks, and thumps of his mattress and headboard. After a minute the pain had dissipated and Abbie was left with a cascading feeling of ecstasy. She held him tighter and wrapped her legs around him. Sensing her comfort he begin moving a little more freely mixing in a few circular strokes here and there. His unpredictability was controlling her life, her body spasmed, and twitched irrepressibly to the point that she totally abandoned trying to stifle it. Unashamed, she cried out repeatedly letting him know how much she loved the way he loved her.

She was consumed by him, writhing uncontrollably from the way he thrusts inside of her. Completely aware that he was literally touching places inside of her that no one else had ever touched before. Ichabod drove himself into her wet paradise making sure to punctuate every stroke, evoking whimpers of delight from the both of them. His hand gripped her plump ass, squeezing it as she thrust up to meet his force. Their bodies unable to fight the pace any longer quickened and began barreling toward climax. He lips nipped at hers, greedily capturing them in kisses as his fingers fondled and stroked her nipples. Abbie could hold back any longer, she cried out as his turgid cock literally drove her to the very precipice of joy.

“Crane, What..Oh My,” She whined. In her head it sounded like complete sentences, and she was too overwhelmed to realize he didn’t hear it the same way she did. To her, she said, _Crane, baby, I love you, Oh my God, what are you doing to me, OH MY GOD what is he doing to me._ This feeling was new to her, she hadn't experienced anything like it ever, and she needed confirmation from him that it was normal, that everything was okay.  As if he somehow understood what she was asking for he reached down and took her hand in his whispering,

"I'm here Apple, it’s alright.”  It felt like he was touching everything inside of her at the same time, and the feeling of him lingering upon this one particular spot was transcendental.  She felt herself start to slip under a wave of pleasure, and knew from the increased frequency with which her name fell from his lips he wouldn’t be far behind. As the wave approached she tightened her arms around him, and cupped her palms to his ass willing him to stay exactly where he was.

She whined begging, “Oh my God, please don’t stop.” It was the last thing she remembered groaning before her screams, and shivers overtook her. Her orgasm spiraled through her entire body, sending her soft moist flower closing around his unbelievably solid erection.

“Abbbie…Oh! Ichabod cried. She didn’t need to ask him not to stop, he was absolutely powerless to do so. He knew from the moment he sunk into her, he wasn’t pulling out. Even if she bore a child, even if this one load yielded ten, even though they were in the middle of a war, he wouldn’t pull out, he absolutely couldn’t, she felt too good. Her hands were locked around his rear, but it felt like they on the inside of his chest. Dipping underneath the protective layer of his ribs, fastening to the very essence of him, and pulling it deeper into herself.

He sputtered her name thrusting mindlessly into her as he succumb to the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced. His body shook and shuddering as his seed slipped into the beautiful woman beneath him.

“My God…..My…!” Ichabod groaned driving into her one final time as the aftershocks were leaving his body. He collapsed onto her unable to move, chest heaving furiously as she gently drug her fingers up and down his back.

“I love you Abbie, I love you so very much.” He whispered still inside of her. He looked up to see tears behind her gaze as he slowly withdrew himself.

“I love you too baby.” She said as a few tears spilled from her eyes. He smiled, these ones he felt proud for putting there.

“Thank you for allowing me to love you, and thank you for loving my back.” He said, lying next to her and wrapping his body around hers. He held her against his chest as they drifted off to sleep.

 

A few hours later Abbie woke to the feel of Ichabod’s lips on her cheek, and his fingertips stroking her breasts. She had fallen into a thick sleep, the kind where all is forgotten, there were no dreams, or momentary awakenings, her spirit was at rest. She moaned rolling onto her back, still half asleep, but she could hear him speaking as she fought her way back to the land of the living.

“Abbie, Treasure.” The feel of his moist mouth taking in her nipples brought her from her twilight state. Ichabod released her breast from his mouth, and began kissing his way up to her lips, as he slid his hand down her muscled abdomen. His fingertips stroked her wet pearl just as his tongue made landfall inside of her mouth. Her moaning was the most enticing sound he had ever heard, and he was eager to hear more of it. He explored her. How she tasted, the way she sounded, how she felt, the sweet smell of her sex. He listened to her incoherently uttering his name as he tore his mouth from hers, fingers leaving her tiny pearl in favor of caressing her body.

“You looked so peaceful, I hated to wake you, but,” he glanced down in the direction of his swollen cock so her eyes naturally followed.

“I need more of you Abbie.” His voice fell to a whisper, “I do not wish to be made to wait any longer.” Abbie slid her hand down his chest, and curled her hand around his engorged shaft.  Ichabod gasped letting his head fall to the pillow. Her smooth fingers moved about his cock rubbing and gripping him just the way he liked it. Abbie watched lustfully as his muscles flexed and contracted. Just seeing the way her touch pleasured him was making her wet. She started having flashbacks of their earlier session, unable to forget how good he felt buried deep inside of her. Before she knew it she was sitting on top of him moaning as she ground her soft folds against his hard flesh. Ichabod loved the way her slickness felt slipping against his manhood, too much so, he reasoned, especially as her thumb ghosted over the tip. He had been lightly fondling her the past twenty minutes, and already had worked himself up into quite a frenzy.

Abbie noticed the hunger in his eyes just before he sat forward to lift her onto his shaft. Her mouth opened, gasps trembling from her lips as she sank onto him. She sucked in a sharp breath when he filled her completely, meeting his half lidded eyes as he sank back into the mattress, one of his hands wrapped around her waist as the other gripped the top of her thigh. He fell into a stupor as she wound her hips in seductive circles on top of him. She started slow, taking the time to let his body fall into rhythm with hers as they moved to an unwritten melody. Ichabod reached up capturing the peaks of her mounds with his hands, and gently squeezing the tips. All she could think about was him, this moment, and how good he felt inside of her.  _Ugh he’s..so deep, feels so..so good, oh his dick feels…so”_  

Her moans and cries grew as her pace quickened. She moved herself up and down his shaft, growing more abandon with every rise and fall. She can hear the sound of her rear slapping against him in rapid succession, mixing with the rhythm of his unintelligible chants. This isn’t slow and gentle the way their first time was, when she was afraid of him, when she was unsure if she could take it. She was a grown ass woman, and she knew exactly what to do with it. Ichabod sat up briefly wrapping his arms tightly around her, kissing her as he cuffed her ass, raising his hips to meet her downward stroke. His feet began to clench and his toes curled.

“Oh God Ichabod! Please…fuck me” She cried. That’s when it happened, he locked his hips at the top of an upward thrust, and started lifting her up and down his shaft—hard. Abbie’s mind warped flashing back to the first time she laid eyes on him, she never would have imagined she would we be here in the center of his bed with him fucking the shit out of her. Absolutely no one had ever stretched her middle out the way he was doing at that moment. Her cervix tilted, and she screamed to the heavens as she tightened around him inside and out. She felt the warm gooey rush of her wetness sliding out of her, and gathering around the base of his manhood as she came.  She never wanted to let him go. With one final thrust he spilled himself into her as strangled cries of passion fell from both lips. Her arms were still wound tightly around him after the last wave of their orgasm had come and gone. She looked at him euphoric, and dizzy, wanting to smile, cry, and sleep all at the same time because of the way he made her feel. Ichabod squeezed her in his arms as his heart swelled with pride and joy.

He lay back, pulling her with him, whispering I love you's into her ear.

 

Ichabod woke to the early morning sun streaking through the curtains. A smile grew across his face as memories from the day before came rushing back all at once. That smile quickly dissipated as he reached over to find Abbie absent from her side of the bed. He immediately thought of Moloch.

“Abbie?” He spat out quickly finding his footing. He checked his restroom. He hesitantly opened his door and stuck his head into the hallway. “Abbie, Miss Jenny.”

“I’m in here.” He heard Abbie call from the vicinity of her bedroom. He sighed, relieved and returned to his bathroom to brush his teeth, knowing he would want to kiss her good morning the moment he saw her. He looked across the hall noticing that Abbie’s bedroom door was open and darted across the walkway following the faint sound of running water. He quietly stepped into her bathroom spying her reclined in the bathtub. He spoke just as she turned off the water.

“There you are.” She jumped slightly not having heard him come in. He laughed at her timidity. She smiled at him sweetly, her eyes drinking in every inch of his lean, muscular frame.

“Hi.”

“Good morrow, my heart.” He replied with star struck eyes.

“You could have bathed in my bath, and saved me the trouble of tracking you down.” He said, a devilish grin covering his face as he approached her.

“Yes but your tub isn’t a whirlpool, and she really needed this.” Abbie responded before she fully realized what she was saying. She pulled her knees into her chest to make room for him as he sat in the tub. _Oh my God, great. Maybe he didn’t hear that, or maybe he thinks I just misspoke, and decided to ignore it._ Ichabod sucked in a deep breath through his teeth as he settled into the tub.

“Abbie this water is outrageously hot.”

“It’s relaxing this way.” She smiled.

“Is it now?” He asked, getting comfortable. He reached out and grabbed her by the waist pulling her body to his. His soft kisses trailed over her face and lips.

“Oh,” She cooed. “Good morning.”

“Good morning Apple.” He whispered.

He pulled her into a kiss, sucking on her lips before brushing his tongue against hers. Abbie was growing increasingly excited feeling his penis stiffen as it rubbed against her legs. She let out a soft moan and pulled back. He let his hands slide to the bottom of her hips and leaned his head back to have a better view of her face.

“She?” He said inclining an eyebrow.  

_Fuck, I knew he heard what I said. I guess that’s what I get for thinking out loud again._ Abbie looked at him with her best I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about face. “Umm did I say she, I meant I.”

“You are aware that I can tell when you are fibbing. Now are you going to tell me who she is, or shall I tickle it out of you.” He said grabbing her foot.

She quickly slipped her sudsy foot from his grasp. “No, n-no, n-no!”

Ichabod sat forward giving her a warning of an impending tickle attack if she didn’t spill the beans.

“I am waiting. Should I be jealous of this she? The fact that you invited her to bathe with you instead of me?” He smirked. “Is she hiding underneath the suds?” He asked curiously.

“Actually _she_ is.” Abbie said smugly.

“I give in, I am not sure I am understanding, who is shee-eee.” Ichabod said realizing what she meant as he followed her eyes down to the spot between her thighs. A flicker of thrill and desire appeared in his eyes, he licked his lips and cleared his suddenly dry throat.

“I suppose she did get rather….dirty yesterday evening. Since I am partially responsible please allow me to rectify this transgression be assisting her in” he raised an eyebrow, “tidying up.” Abbie lifted her body and stood in the tub looking down at him.

“Aww thanks for offering but you’re too late, I’ve already _tidied up_ , this is my third refill, and I have an appointment in an hour sooo…rain check.” She caressed his hair, and stepped out of the warm water. Ichabod swallowed hard, as his eyes trailed her figure. He wasn’t yet accustomed to seeing her naked form, and her half sudded canvas covered with the tinted sunlight was more than enough to make his pulse quicken. Ichabod couldn’t remember bathing so quickly before in his life. He fastened a towel around the waist of his freshly dried body, and walked into the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and watched her for a moment. She was sitting on her bed with a white fluffy towel closed around her chest, her hair still up in a bun from her bath. He took in her beauty as she slathered lotion over her calf. His mouth opened slightly as she inched up her legs, hiking up her towel to gain access to her upper thigh. She saw him out of the corner of her eye.

“You’re staring”

“Forgive me, you are breathtaking.”

He slowly stalked over to her. “May I” he asked lifting the bottle of lotion.

She raised her head to meet his eyes. “I have an eye appointment in fifty minutes, and the eye doctor is fifteen minutes away on a good day. Do you know how much snow is on the ground?”

“I merely wish to assist you.” He replied innocently. “You cannot be expected to apply this,” he glanced down at the bottle “moisturizing concoction to your own back, can you?” Abbie tilted her head to the side, and bit her bottom lip.

“Okay, but just my back and then I have to get dressed to go.” Abbie shifted position turning and bending her knees slightly to curve her back towards him. She unhooked her towel and let it gather around her waist. He sat perpendicular to her with his feet of the floor. She heard him rubbing the lotion between his hands just before she felt him kneading it into the top of her shoulders. His strong hands massaged their way down her back, his thumbs pressing firmly into her spine, while his fingertips dusted over her breast. A soft moan climbed from the back of her throat causing his bath towel to become increasing uncomfortable. She smiled under his delicate ministrations. She loved the way they touched her, like she was the most precious thing in the world. The weight of the bed shifted, and she heard what she suspected was his towel hit the floor. Those suspicions were confirmed when moments later she felt hers gently pulled away from her bottom, only to be replaced with the warmth of his groin.

His legs splayed out over the bed surrounding her own. His warm hands slid up the rear of her torso as his lips brushed the back of her neck. She moaned softly hanging her head to allow his lips easier access to the area, shuddering as his teeth softly tugged at the supple skin there. He admired her neck while he kissed and nipped it, wondering what he’d ever done to deserve such a blessing. He’d learned to play the cello as a boy, and he couldn’t help but think how Abbie felt like a tiny cello in his arms. Not that she was physically hard, because the feel of her skin beneath his made it utterly clear that she was not. But rather there were parts of her that were hard, and unyielding. Much like the instrument he’d always considered to be the heart of the orchestra, she wouldn’t sing for just anyone. She required a special sort of dedication and attention that not many possessed, a delicacy of touch that lessor men could never hope to master. But he could. He would stroke and pluck her until her found all of her sweet spots. And once those were uncovered he would devote ions of time and eager energy until he discovered just the perfect…bowing, and by God her body would sing for him. His arms encircled her as he pulled her back against his groin, his large hand squeezing her breast, feeling the rhythm of her heart increase. Abbie whimpered as his firm erection throbbed against her backside.

Sensing her desire he pulled her back tighter against him, squeezing her waist and grinding his hips to meet her rolling ones. He bent forward and pulled her lips back towards her shoulders until his tongue found hers. His fingers found hers and guided them down to the tiny jewel between at the apex of her womanhood. His fingers stayed atop of hers steering them to slide around and over the top of her clit. She moaned throwing her head and body back until her torso leaned on his. His dick pulsed with an insatiable ache as she cried out from pleasure. She pulled her knees in and widened the space between them, panting as they spread open like the wings of a butterfly. He pushed her fingers lower dipping them into her warm wet center. Her breathy moans were constant now. He brought her fingers up to his mouth, and wrapped his lips around them tasting her sweet wetness. Abbie tried to slip her other fingers into her folds to replace the ones in Ichabod’s mouth but, he grabbed that one too and pried it away.

Abbie whined. “Baby, please, I’m so close, please!”

“First tell me her name.” Abbie quickly grew irritated trying to fathom what the hell he was talking about.

“What? What the hell you mean? Whose name?” She huffed between breaths.  

“If there is a she then it stands to reason that _she,_ ” he slid his hand down to cuff her center, “must have a name.”

Abbie writhed against him. “Oh,” she moaned. “Crane it’s…it’s private.” She stuttered.

He ghosted a finger along the outside of her sex at the intersection of her labia, painting them with her dripping wetness. It was sheer torture having his fingers there ghosting along the center, without actually dipping inside. Her entire body shivered from excitement.

“Ahhh Chloe,” she gasped unable to wait any longer.

“Baby, her name is Chloe just, please.”

He quickly rewarded her by pushing his fingers through her lips and sliding them up to her little nub, tenderly fingering circles around it.

Abbie was lost.

He slid from behind her, and crawled over her body kissing her passionately. He travelled down her frame licking and sucking her skin along the way. When he reached her womanhood he brought his lips to it and whispered against her inner folds.

“Hello Chloe, I’ve returned just as I promised, and though we were never formally introduced, I’m certain you remember me from last evening.” He slid his tongue through the length of her, flicking it over her little jewel, eliciting soft moans from Abbie. He kissed her clit as he continued speaking to her pussy.

“Never fear, you belong to me now, and I am going to take excellent care of you.” He opened her with his thumbs and sucked her clit between his tongue and upper lip. Abbie was instantaneously undone. Her fingers tightened around his tresses as she thrust herself into his mouth. He could tell that she wanted more, a finger or maybe even two inserted deep inside of her. Something to clench around, to grab a hold of as inner muscles contracted.

“You’re mine.” He whispered sliding his middle finger into her core. His nostrils flared as he felt her tighten around it.

“Dear God,” he hummed against her sex.

“Icabod I’mm…” she turned her lips against the pillows to cover her moans.

He kept his mouth on her pussy until she came down then rose and immediately brought his mouth to hers. He didn’t bother wiping, he wanted her to taste how sweet she was, how perfect she tasted.

“Your flower contains the most exquisite nectar my love.” He told her between kisses. “I want to taste it again.” She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and pulled her knees up to her side, letting him know exactly where she wanted him. She held on to him, guiding him into her sweet spot. His lips pursed together tightly and his eyes fluttered shut as he pushed into her. She felt so wonderful stretched out underneath him as his lips met with hers. Abbie wrapped her legs around him as he fell into a slow steady rhythm thrusting in and out of her, back and forth. Each time pushing in deeper, and staying in longer, before long it was difficult for him to find the resolve to pull back at all. Abbie felt his entire body tense, and he stopped moving altogether. She stroked his back.

“Hold…perfectly still my heart, do not move.” He pleaded with her keeping his eyes shut tightly. Their heavy gasps and their labored breathing sounded so much louder without the squeaking of the mattress. She knew he was trying to extend the moment, but she couldn’t just stop moving. Being perfectly still may have worked if he wasn’t at that very moment pressed against the exact spot that she enjoyed him the most. She managed to hold still for a few seconds before she felt a build in her belly that needed to be released. Her insides flexed against his stiff rod first, followed by her swirling her hips while thrusting upward.

“Mmmm I can’t,” Abbie whined. She immediately heard him suck in a sharp breath then make a noise that sounded like he started to say her name but ended up swallowing it instead. He resumed thrusting into her with an unbridled fervor that he had previously held at bay. One hand gripping the edge of the mattress, while the other one slipped under her and gripped her ass like it had always been his. His grunts and her cries grew louder with each stroke until his mouth fell open but the only noise that came from it was his attempt to gather breath, coming much too hard to emanate any other sound. Finally he was able to recover.

“Abbie…Fuck!” He barely managed to groan out.

Abbie on the other hand choked on various variations of his name, and made up a few new ones altogether, as she tumbled through her orgasm. She had known from the moment he entered the bedroom she was going to be late to her appointment, and for once the ever punctual Abbie Mills couldn’t have given a fuck less.

After fifteen minutes or so, she sat up in bed with her phone trying to reschedule her appointment. Ichabod pulled her leg to him and started nibbling at the skin on the top of her knee.

“Oh wow you guys have an opening two days!” She said excitedly. Ichabod looked up at her and slowly shook his head.

“Um actually that day is no good either. Oh early next week sounds grea—,” Ichabod once again pulled up shaking his head. “Actually I can’t make that date either, can you please hold for one moment, I need to reference my calendar.” She muted the phone, and looked at Crane. “What is wrong with these dates, do you know something about my schedule I don’t? He sat forward.

“Check if they have any openings on the 24th or after.” Abbie gazed at him completely dumbfounded. “Uhh, I’m sure they will it’s over two weeks away, why does it..”

“—Abbie, trust me.” He stated. She did as he asked and re-scheduled her appointment for the evening of the 24th. By the time she hung up the phone he was busy sucking the underside of her breast. She wrapped her arms around him.

“What the heck was that about, they could have gotten me in, in two days, now I have to wait two weeks.” He took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. She fell back against the pillows whimpering, and he instantly moved over her.

“If my calculations are correct the 24th will be the beginning of your….cycle, and up until then every second of your spare time will be spent in this bed.” Abbie about died. She ran through it quickly in her head and realized he was dead on.

“How in the hell did you know that?” She asked completed stumped. Abbie, without fail made a sweet once a month approximately two to three days before the start of her period. Ichabod had always recognized subtle changes in her behavior but never truly understood why until he’d stopped at the store with her one evening and the only items she purchased where sanitary napkins and a roll of cookie dough. He took her lips briefly before replying.

“I know everything about you Grace ( _kiss_ ) Abigail ( _kiss_ ) Mills.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't judge me! lol ;-)!


	15. Yellow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading, and the awesome reviews, and comments, you guys are the effing best. I love, love, love, that you guys are enjoying the story. Things have just recently slowed down for me, so I should have more time to write. Didn’t get a chance to start this chapter until a week ago. Please forgive any grammatical errors, I typically write pretty late at night, I did proofread, and will proofread again later tonight. I didn’t get half of what I wanted to get done in this chapter so I’m starting work on the next one tomorrow and it will be up, a week maybe a week and a half after that. Can. Not. WAIT for you guys to read what’s coming up in the following chapter. Hope you all enjoy it, and this one as well. :-)!

 

 

The house was quiet and peaceful on what had become a stolen lazy Sunday. There were always things that they should have been doing, from grocery shopping to shoveling the driveway, a never ending checklist of things they needed to do in order to maintain their home. Abbie had seen crime scenes that were better put together than her kitchen at the moment. Still, in _this_ particular moment she didn’t care about the half-eaten blueberry pancakes flittered across the table, or the broken glass and water that undoubtedly covered the floor. The pan used to cook their eggs had been left on the burner with half of the eggs still in it, and no one bothered returning the juice to the fridge. She lay in the den, covering her lover’s body wondering how her home felt so full of life, even though every other room was empty. From her vantage point on the floor, the sun poured in through the windows giving the illusion of a warm summer day, however outside they were right in the middle of an unusually cold winter. The warmth engulfing her body did nothing but further the misconception. Ichabod fell back against the rug pulling a love drunk Abbie with him. Quick, laborious, breaths caused his chest to rise and fall beneath the fullness of her bare bosom. He tucked his chin into his chest, and released a low growl as she kissed and sang I love you’s upon his swollen strawberry lips. He knew she did. His pulse began to decrease, and his hands slowly started to loosen their grip upon her ample backside, even still, he could just barely feel her slightly shaking underneath his fingertips.   An undercurrent of pride coursed through him because of it. He fucked her precisely the way he was supposed to, and he had the scratches on his back, and shoulders to prove it. His palms covered her damp skin with soft caresses as she fell away from him, and immediately coiled into his side.   He heard a contented sigh slip from her lips and couldn’t help but to dispel one of his own to match it.   Everything felt heavenly as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling above them, enjoying the feel of her tiny fingers combing through the hair on his chest.  He loved the den. No matter how hectic everything was in their lives he always felt an enormous sense of calm in relaxation when he entered this room.

Perhaps it was the books, barons of fantastical tales and mounds of information. The fact that, all which was confounding, or unknown could become clearly understood through their study. But the feeling he felt at this very moment was new, different and largely an effect of the little woman nestled against his side. He looked down at her, and brought his left arm across his body linking it together with the one that was already wrapped around her. The happiness soaking his core edged up, and came pouring out in the form of a wide gaping smile, which he made no attempts to hide. He couldn't believe she was finally in his arms. He'd wanted her for so long it all felt like a hazy dream. But here she was, as naked as the day she was born plastered against his body. To think he’d almost talked himself out of revealing his heart to her the other night. Abbie looked up at him and chuckled softly at his toothy grin.

“What are you thinking?” She asked turning onto her belly, and letting her fingers run through his beard. He filtered a heavy breath in and out of his mouth, while sliding his hand up over her rear. His smile disappeared but the joy she brought him remained.

“I was thinking...that I would have no qualms about embracing my death at this very moment, because in these past few days alone, I have already experienced more happiness than any man deserves.” Now it was her turn to wear a goofy grin, but unlike him she turned away trying to hide it. He pulled her onto him before she got the chance.

“Have I impressed upon you my unyielding devotion today, have I told you precisely how deeply I adore you?” He asked.

“You have. This morning in bed, and again in the hallway this afternoon when....” Her heart fluttered recalling they’re encounters from earlier in the day. She subconsciously bit her bottom lip, as blood rushed to the surface of her cheeks. It was going to take some getting used to, learning to be this person, one who didn’t shy away from closeness or intimacy, but moved toward it.

“You know. You did that thing.  But I wasn't quite clear that time on whether you were speaking to me, or Chloe.”

“I was speaking to you, however at that particular moment I believe Chloe was in full regulation of your body, so I regarded her as your direct proxy. Was my missive delivered appropriately?”

“Most appropriately,” Abbie sighed. “After all, you wrote it on my womb.” She whispered, playing at his lips.

“Have I showed you how much I love you?” She stretched her body over his.

“Because I do. Completely, totally.” She pledged between kisses.

“You have.”  He slides his hand up her back gently pressing her to him, "Still, I’d like for you to show me again.”  He whispered. Abbie's eyes widened as she felt him harden against her belly.

“Oh sweetie there's something wrong with you”. She says in disbelief. _How could he possibly be ready to go again?_ She thought.

“Not something, everything.” He admitted gently. “Everything is wrong with me, and you are the only thing that can fix it." She gazed down at him, trying to figure out why he loved her so fiercely, wondering what it was that he saw in her. She stopped at the feel of his warm tongue slipping between her lips.

“Baby we have to stop. I only took two bites of my food before you attacked me. And I'm pretty sure my glass of water hit the floor when you threw me on the—ungh—table.“  She moaned softly. “The kitchen’s a mess.”

Ichabod pulled back allowing his head to rest on the floor. “I attacked you. Miss Mills you are quite mistaken, you are the one who started this.” His lips tumbled across her neck.

“Me. I was eating. I'm still hungry.”

“Eating?” Ichabod countered in disbelief. “Where on God’s earth do they call what you were doing eating Abbie? No one eats a pineapple that way, that slowly…” He sprinkled kisses across her lips.

“That seductively, sucking all of the juice from it before finally taking it into your mouth. It was torture. To top it all off you proceeded to sit your fork down, and give me that saucy little look.  I felt challenged, so I rose to it.”  

"Oh quite literally."  Abbie ribbed as she sat up straddling him.  He lay beneath her taking notice of how the sunlight fell against her face, not the top nor the bottom, directly in the center across her eyes and nose. He couldn't believe she was here with him this way, her soft skin glowing under his worshiping gaze. His fingers tightened around her hips. He wanted her all over again.

“Saucy. What. What look?” Abbie asked feigning innocence.

“You know full well what look.”

“Abbie flapped her lashes, and repeated the little come hither glare she’d given him in the kitchen.

“That one.” He said sitting up. “That one exactly.” He listened to her giggles as he rolled her unto her back, and then everything was suddenly quiet.

“Apple.”

“Yes?”

“Never leave me.” He whispered slowly. It was a simple statement, but he said it in a way that made it sound more like a plea. Years ago she never would have answered such a question, but now laying under him, she knew that she never could.

“I'll never leave.” She promised. His lips parted ever so slightly, as he breathed out a held breath under her acknowledgement. She lifted her back from the floor seizing the opportunity to kiss him. “Bells are you in…Oh MY GOD!” Jenny screamed standing in the doorway. Ichabod screamed simultaneously, and scrambled to lift the blanket they’d been using around his waist. With it secure he turned to see Jenny standing in front of them with her gun in hand.

“Shut the fucking door!” Abbie yelled causing Jenny to snap out of it, and hastily retreat from the room. Ichabod and Abbie immediately jumped up clamoring about to gather, and put on their clothes.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” Abbie cursed zipping up her pants. They looked at each other, both of them thinking how foolish they were for not locking the door to the den. Jenny hadn’t been home all weekend, and it was already early evening, they just assumed that she wouldn’t be home tonight either.  

Abbie can see the redness and embarrassment on Ichabod’s face as he tugs on his t-shirt. She reassures him.

 

“I’ll handle this.” She says placing a hand on his waist. “It’ll be fine, it’s not a big deal.”

“I was careless.” Ichabod said remembering how quickly he scooped her up from the table and carried her into the den. “Forgive me.”

“Baby it’s fine, there’s nothing to forgive. I’m going to go talk to Jenny, and smooth things over.” She turned to start walking away, but felt his hand grasp hold of hers and bring her back to him. He didn’t speak, he only cupped his hands around her face and bent his lips to hers.

“I know. I love you too.” She said causing him to smile at how well she knew him.

“I am going up for a shower. Do you require anything of me?” He asked.

“No.” Abbie loved how thoughtful he was, always checking in about her general well being.

“But thanks for offering.” She added. Her hand fell from his, and he stood watching after her as she exited the room.

Jenny was in the kitchen looking at the scene before her. She was sure something was awry when she entered. Half eaten plates of food were sitting on the table, various items across the countertop, and broken glass on the floor. The table was turned sideways, and two of the chairs had been knocked over. Sure there was no sign of forced entry, but the mess coupled with the fact that she’d called and called and neither of them had answered their phones had her worried.

“Usually when a door’s closed, the polite thing to do is knock.” Abbie stated calmly. Jenny spun around at the sound of her voice.

“Are you fucking serious, look at this place.” Jenny stated waving her arm at the mess in front of them. Abbie took stock of the room and quickly understood where she was coming from.

“Okay so it does look a little crazy, I get how you could have believed something was amiss.” She conceded.

“A _little_ crazy,” Jenny repeated sarcastically. “I saw less crazy shit in the psych ward, not to mention I left you like five messages and about a dozen texts. What the hell, I thought something happened, I never in a million years thought that I would come here and find the two of you doing you know what in the middle of the den.” She sat down at the table examining the plates of food, before picking up the plate she could tell was Abbie’s and helping herself to a bite of the pancakes.

“Mmm, still warm.” She looked up at her sister who was busy cleaning broken glass up off of the floor.

Why the den anyway, why didn’t you guys just go upstairs?” She takes another bite of food, and then suddenly stops chewing.

“Wait a minute, you guys did it in here first.”   Her eyes widened. “Oh wow you did, didn’t you?” She slowly leaned away from the table. “Did you do it on the table, because Abbie I have to eat in here, and I understand that…”  

“No. Yes. I mean...” Abbie stated, trying to find the words to relay what had actually transpired.

“—How hard is it either you did or you didn’t?”

“No. We didn’t.”

“I’m so confused right now, the last message I got from you stated that you were home, and Crane was at the cabin, so I assumed you guys were beefin’ again. Hell just last week you said he was acting distant, like everything that happened in Rhode Island never happened.”

Abbie swept up the last of the glass off of the floor.  

“We were having some issues,” Abbie said taking a seat at the table. “You remember how I told you that I was going to say something to him. About the way we were approaching the war, the pace of it all?” Jenny nods, so Abbie proceeds. “Well I did, and we got into this huge blowout and I just had to get out of there, so I came home. Remember you called me probably twenty minutes after I got here. I got distracted talking to you, and I forgot to contact him, and let him know I made it home so…”

“He came after you.” Jenny swooned.

“He did.” Abbie smiled. “And then we fought some more, and he basically said that the reason he’d been so full speed ahead, trying to kill Moloch is because he made a threat against me in purgatory.”

Jenny sat forward in her chair. “What kind of a threat?”

“Typical Moloch. Something about taking me directly from Ichabod’s arms.” Abbie leaned back shaking her head. She was a little unsettled by the news, but she couldn’t let Ichabod know, he was already worried enough.

“Annndd that would be why he’s been acting the way he has about the two of you.” Jenny shook her head. “He should have just said something. If there’s a threat made against one of us, we all should know.”

“I agree, but in his defense he did believe that he was neutralizing it.” Abbie offered.

“But it isn’t only that Bells, you’ve been different. I mean your entire spirit changed, and you were noticeably…” Jenny sighed, she didn’t want to say hurt, because she was afraid that the word would trigger her sister’s defenses, or make her feel bad for allowing herself to be hurt, and she didn’t want to do that.

“Different.” She settled upon. “The same way you were noticeably different the last time things went south between you two.”

Abbie easily took to her sister’s meaning. “I know, and I’m sorry if in that time, I wasn’t all that I should have been…for you especially. You’re right it was hard for me, and I didn’t really feel like myself, and that was very scary, and…I was hurt.” Abbie brought her eyes to Jenny’s.

“And what did he say about that, about the way he treated you for the last six months?”

“He apologized, and I forgave him.”

“Just like that?”

Abbie opened her hand in a poof gesture. “Just like that.” Her voice fell quiet. “Jenny…I love him so much…and the way that we were taught to not let anyone in…please don’t make me feel foolish for doing so. You’re like the one person in the world whose opinion actually matters to me.”

Jenny pushed the plate in front of her forward, and rested her elbows on the table. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I know how you feel about him, and I _am_ happy for you, I don’t want you to think that I’m not, I was just worried. For a while there you were almost like a ghost of your former self. Though you seemed a lot better once you started spending time at the orphanage.”

Abbie’s eyes stretched. “I knew it, I knew I was being tailed. You followed me, the day we got all that snow.”

Jenny laughed, “Of course I followed you. I knew you weren’t telling the truth about where you were going, so I had to see what you were up to.”

“I thought I was losing my mind.” Abbie smiled.

“Yeah, I’m pretty good.” Jenny chuckled. “Well let’s hear it, fill me in on all of the juicy details.”

“Hmmpf,” Abbie sighed stretching her arms out across the table, and letting her head fall onto them.

“Wow, that good?” Jenny asked raising an eyebrow. Abbie sat up, smiling from ear to ear. She pressed her lips together trying to mask some of her giddiness.

“It was…earth shattering, and reassembling like all at once. I hardly know where to begin.” She lauded.

“Just start at the beginning.” Jenny stated.

“Well, after he apologized—actually he was kissing me while he apologized, which I’m pretty sure was why I accepted his apology so easily. But anyway, after that he told me what he wanted to do…that he wanted me, that he wanted to make love. And as soon as I said yes, that I wanted him too, he picked me up and whisked me upstairs. My heartbeat was on ten, I’m not even kidding, I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous and excited, and I’m a cop.” She chuckled. Abbie’s eyes began to sparkle in further remembrance of their first night together. “He lit candles, and he was so sweet Jenny, so gentle.”

“Awww.” Her sister sighed.

“Yeah.” Abbie said as she pulled her feet into the chair under her, and wrapped her arms around her legs. “And very, _very_ much in control.” She added.

“Really, hmm, that’s surprising. I guess I thought because he’s so…you know.”

“No, he’s not uptight at all,” Abbie interjected sensing Jenny’s meaning, “He’s actually experienced. He took charge, which was refreshing because I already have so many things I have to be in control of at work, and other areas, it was nice to be taken care of for a change.”

“I get that.” A smirk covered Jenny’s face, “Well go Icky, who’d of thunk it?”

“It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I _never_ knew my body could feel that way.” Abbie sighed.

Jenny looked at the dazed expression covering her sister’s face and fought off a giggle. “Wow. I’ve never seen you like this”

Abbie dropped her smile into her knees. “That’s because I’ve never felt this way. Speaking of which…”

“What?” Jenny could see that Abbie wanted to say something but seemed a little hesitant. She usually told her everything without restraint.

“What is it?” She asked again. Abbie always felt a little weird about asking Jenny for advice on sex. Yes they were close in age, but she was still the big sister. She was supposed to be the one giving her tips, not the other way around.

“Okay so, my question is kind of twofold. One,” She listed. “Like Friday was perfect, everything was wonderful. Then yesterday, the first time we did it, I was a little sore—in the beginning, but by the end it was like pure bliss, so naturally I wanted to do it again, and it happened the exact same way, hurt a little, then it was perfect. Then late last night it hurt like a lot more when he first put it in, but just like the other times.”

“It ended well.” Jenny stated, catching her drift.

“Really, really, _really_ well. I’ve been taking long soaks in the tub, and I think it’s helping kind of soothe things, but still today it was the same thing, pain in the beginning. At the same time, it isn’t the type of pain that makes me want to make him stop, I can’t describe it, it almost turns me on more, I just don’t want to damage something, you know that I might need later.”  

“Like your cervix.” Jenny quizzed.

“Yeah, I actually already googled a few things, and I read that your cervix ascends when you’re aroused, but..”

“And you’re aroused right?” Jenny asked. Abbie tilted her head to the side.

“Oh yeah I almost forgot that’s why you were funneling through all the panty liners.” She laughed. “Ohhh, wait a minute. Bonergate!!!! Jenny screamed, remembering the time Ichabod woke up with an erection.

“Dude, I almost forgot he has a freaking pole, that’s why it hurts. Is it thick too?” Abbie looked her square in the eye and held out her arm. Jenny looked at her sister’s deadpanned expression and burst into laughter. Abbie continued after their laughter died down.

“Honestly I wasn’t sure I would be able to take it, when I first saw it I got really worried, I’m not going to lie.” She confessed.

“There’s the dickaphopic Abbie I remember.” Jenny teased.

“Seriously I think there’s a physiological reason for how turned on I am whenever I’m around him. Like my body knows it’s going to need all of that to accommodate him. But surprisingly _because_ of that, it went in a lot easier than I thought.”

“Hmm. That little theory actually makes sense. Maybe now that you’re using it, we can keep a box of panty liners for more than a week. So!” Jenny pulled her arms into a stretch. “Long story short you guys have just been at it all weekend, and you’re sore?”

“Pretty much.” Abbie grinned.

“I went out with a guy before, who had a really big one—is this your juice?” Jenny asked wrapping her fingers around the glass in front of her.

“Yeah.” Abbie answered.

Jenny took a sip before continuing. “Similar to what I remember from bonergate, not that I’m trying to commit your man’s junk to memory or anything, but I’ve only been with one guy with one like that. Whenever I had sex with him more than twice a day, or on back to back days I would get sore, and at first I ignored it, but then I started having like these stomach pains.”

Abbie’s mouth fell open. “Ouch, Oh my God. So what did you do?” She asked.

Jenny spoke slowly as if her sister was simple minded. “I stopped fucking him more than twice a day, and I never had sex with him two days in a row.”

Abbie rested her head against her shoulder. “I don’t think I can.”

Jenny joked. “You’re such a slut.”

Abbie smiled. “I know.” she sang as if it was the best compliment she’d ever received.

“Seriously though, I tried to take a breather yesterday, failed miserably. I told him what was happening and being the gentleman he is, he decided to kiss it to make it better. Annnd,” Abbie said while taking in a breath, “then I hopped on top of him. I’ve concluded that it’s impossible to think reasonably whenever he touches me.”

Jenny laughed. “If you’re sore, you better learn to, you _can_ do other things you know, like it doesn’t always have to be sex.”

“I know…that’s actually part two of my question. I want to…you know, service him, but I want to do it right.”

Jenny’s eyes went wide. She was partially suggesting it just make her sister gag. Abbie had always professed a major aversion to blowjobs, to hear her flip on the issue so capriciously was mind boggling. Jenny pulled her head back displaying her surprise to her sister’s response.

“What, I mean, he goes down on me.” Abbie said.

“Uh so did Luke and Collin.”

“I know, but..I just.” Abbie paused momentarily to gather her thoughts. “I can’t really explain it, other than to say that I never had the desire to do that to them. With Crane, I feel so overwhelmed with love, I want to give some of that back to him. I feel like he deserves it, like he’s worthy.” Abbie stated.

Jenny tried to blink away her disbelief, chalking this up to another casualty of the post Ichabod era.

“So,” Abbie sang. “When you have time, we’ll have to have a conversation, and you can tell me all of your little tricks.”

“It’s not like I’m freaking Supahead or something Bells. It’s not like I’m just out here sucking dicks.” Jenny said, somewhat amused, somewhat agitated, but nonetheless garnering a chuckle from Abbie.

“I didn’t say that!” Abbie exclaimed.

“You used to talk crap to me about giving head, and now you want a lesson, my how the tables have turned.” Immediately something dawned on Jenny.

“Did you use a condom?”

Abbie shook her head slowly. “No.”

“—What?”

“You know I’m on the pill.” Abbie stated.

“And you know, no method is one hundred percent, it takes two contraceptives. And the pill can’t protect you from STDs.”

“No really I didn’t know that.” Abbie spit out sarcastically. “He’s clean Jenny.” She argued.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I was at the doctor’s office with him, when he had a full panel done, including STD testing.” Abbie answered matter of factly.

“Oh. Well, still.” Jenny stated feeling relieved. “So when did you have these test run?” She inquired.

Abbie cast her eyes toward the ceiling as she tried to recall the timeframe. “About a month after he arrived. He was practically living with me, sharing my bathroom, I had to be sure.”

“Sure of what?” The women look across the kitchen to find Ichabod approaching. He was dressed in black slacks and a gray sweater, looking as sexy as ever. Jenny noted the cherry color painting Abbie’s cheeks.

“Nothing.” Abbie offered quietly.”

Ichabod stepped further into the room. “Miss Jenny, please forgive me for the incredibly unbefitting situation that occurred earlier today. The door should have been locked, and I can offer a plethora of excuses, but quite honestly the plain truth is that the presence of your sister most comprehensively muddles my thoughts, and renders even the most elementary tasks impossible.”

“It’s all good Icky.” Jenny replied.

“You going somewhere?” Abbie asked nodding toward the car keys in his hand.

“Oh yes.” Ichabod stated looking down, as if he’d almost forgotten that he was holding them.

“There is a book I had been searching for that is now ready for pick-up. Is there anything either of you need or desire whilst I’m out?” He asked.

“No I’m good.” Jenny said. Abbie hopped up and handed him a sticky note from the fridge with a couple of items listed on it.

“If you don’t mind. I can go out and get them later if you don’t feel like stopping.” Abbie stated.

“Nonsense.” He turned to her. “I do not mind at all.” He smiled.

“Thank you.” Abbie said sweetly.

“You are most emphatically welcome.” Ichabod replied nervously fingering the note. He stood there torn between this world and the one he hailed from, wanting to kiss her farewell, but not wanting to make Jenny feel uncomfortable.

“I shan’t be long.” He said heading towards the garage door. He’d almost made it there before he turned around and went back for Abbie. He took her by the hand and pulled her along with him until they reached the door. Abbie removed his coat from the rack and helped him into it. He pulled her into his arms as she wrapped his black scarf around his neck. He’d only meant to give her a soft little kiss, at least it had started out that way, but it quickly grew to something else. She stood on her tip toes, feeling his hands slip beneath the fabric of her shirt and tighten around her waist. When his fingers slid a few inches lower, she knew things had taken a turn. Abbie pulled back fighting for breath, desperately trying to stop their actions before they reached the point of no return. It was then Ichabod remembered that they weren’t alone. She could see the pained expression across his face, and his longing for her was easily readable in his fixated gaze. Ichabod didn’t want to leave. If the book he was picking up didn’t have the possibility of helping them defeat Moloch, he wouldn’t be.

“I shall return soon.” He said lowly, not wanting to let her go. It would be the first time they’d be apart since they’d been together, and even an hour seemed too long a period of time.

“K.” Abbie replied softly, still dizzy from his lips. “Ichabod.” She called just as he stepped down into the garage. He turned to face her, his expression bearing a hint of curiosity. She didn’t have any words for him, only wanted to see his face one more time before he left. He climbed back up the few steps and took her lips again.

“I love you, most desperately.” He said after her heels once again touched the floor.

“I know baby, I love you too.”  She replied.

“How did I know you two were still in here kissing goodbye? Lucky for me though, because I just remembered that I actually do need a couple of things from the store. Mind if I tag along Icky?”

“Yes.” He does mind, Abbie answered as her eyes narrowed upon her sister.

“Jenny,” Abbie called in a warning tone, as her sister slipped into the driver’s seat.

“It’s fine Bells, I’m not going to hurt him.” Ichabod glanced over his shoulder at the car before redirecting his attention to Abbie. His only concern was leaving her alone, even though Moloch clearly stated that he would take her directly from him, he was a trickster and couldn’t be trusted. Ichabod slid his fingers along the necklace that Seamus’s grandmother gave her.

“Perhaps you should accompany us, I do not fancy the idea of you being alone.” He advised.

“I am fine.” She said slowly. “This is our home, I won’t be afraid here, not of Moloch, or anyone else. Plus I have my necklace. Besides it’s you that I’m worried about.” She said glancing in Jenny’s direction.

Ichabod smiled, and looked at Abbie bearing his best I got this expression.

“Don’t be troubled my heart, though she will never admit it your sister has a soft spot for me. I imagine she already looks upon me as a brother.” He had barely pressed his lips to Abbie for more than a second when he was jeered by the shrill honk of the horn. Once inside the vehicle he cut his eyes at Jenny for her interruption of his kiss with Abbie. Shortly after they were out of the driveway, Jenny looked over, and decided the direct approach would be best.

“Look I’m going to cut to the chase, Abbie is _the_ strongest person I know, but I don’t know what it is when it comes to you…she can be hurt.” She glances over at him.

“She has been hurt. She’s very good at hiding her pain, she always been that way. She doesn’t like to let anyone see when she’s struggling, so the fact that I _know_ that you’ve hurt her, means that it was severe.”

“Miss Jenny, her happiness holds the greatest significance to me. It was neither my decision, nor intention to cause her pain, I only sought to protect her.”

“That’s how you protect her, by telling her that you love her, and completely closing her out once you actually had the chance to be with her. She took your distance as indifference, she thought you didn’t care. You _let her_ think that you didn’t care. Of course at first she told herself that you were mourning Katrina, but as time passed and you still said nothing she assumed either that you never meant the things that you said, or that perhaps she did something to change your opinion of her.”

“Miss Jenny.”

“—I like you Icky. I always have. But I hope you know what you’re doing with my sister, because if you hurt her, you hurt me, and trust me, you don’t want to hurt me Crane.” She warned.  

“Agreed I do not, and I most certainly do not wish to hurt Abbie. She is….my entire world, that is why I kept my distance. I know that she is most dear to you, your only sister…but we are bound, and she is…my very heart. The notion that another person could begin to tell me how to keep watch over my own heart is baffling. I know that you mean well, but trust that I know well how to love her. To let her be when she needs to space, to hold her when she needs comfort, and yes that includes protecting her when she needs to be protected.” Ichabod turned his head to face Jenny.

“I know how to love her. I am not suggesting that I am without flaw, I am but human, and I have made mistakes, and I can assure you that as any other man, I will make more. But if you suppose that there is another soul on earth capable of loving your sister as I do, you are woefully misguided.”

Jenny looked over at Ichabod surprised that she wasn’t pissed. She wasn’t sure but it sounded a lot like he just told her to butt out. She was actually proud of him.

“Crane, just…be careful with her.”

“Always, I swear it.” He promised. Ichabod whipped his head around stretching his neck to view the storefront they’d just passed.

“Miss Jenny, pull over.” There was an urgent tone in his voice.

“What do you mean, the book store’s a half mile down the”

“—Yes I am aware, please pull over right here.” His pointed to an empty parking space on the road just to their left. As soon as she’d parked, he jumped out and hurried around to the car to open her door.

“Come along.”

“Come along where.” She asked as she left the vehicle.

Ichabod started across the street, turning back to make certain that Jenny was still with him. They walked a little ways down the street until the came to a local mom and pop jewelry store. He stopped in front, cuffing his hands through the window at the man sitting inside. He knocked softly against the glass. “Mr. Stewart.” He called.

The older man got up from his seat at a small wooden table, and came to the front to unlock the door. “Ichabod Crane.” A smile crinkled the edges of his steel eyes, as he waved them in from the cold.

“Come on in.” Ichabod cleared the snow from his boots upon the entry rug.  

“Mr. Stewart, pleasure to see you this fine day, I understand that you are closed for business on Sunday’s but I saw the light on, and hoped that perhaps I could trouble you for a moment.” Mr. Stewart took a place behind the display case closest to Ichabod and Jenny.

“No trouble at all. We weren’t doing much at home today so we decided to come on in and get a head start on some repairs.”

“Of course,” Ichabod smiled.

Just as Ichabod was introducing Jenny, Mr. Stewart’s wife appeared from a back room, after hearing the sounds of voices. Her wooden cane rapped along the floor at a pace so furious Ichabod wondered if she needed it at all.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him standing in the middle of the shop. He was such a joy to have around she thought. Such a kind, thoughtful young man. He’d come in before with Lieutenant Abbie mills looking at jewelry. She and her husband had taken an instant shining to him. In part, simply because Abbie seemed to like him so much. Just three years before there was an attempted robbery at their store. A man came in waving around a gun and demanding cash, as well as other items. Poor Mary was so frightened and shocked she froze. The gunman took this as defiance, and pushed her down for failing to move quickly enough. Mr. Stewart lunged toward him, but he aimed his gun at Mary swearing to kill her if he didn’t get what he wanted. Once Mr. Stewart began gathering up the cash, the gunman relaxed a little which was just the signal Abbie needed. She had made it a point to come by that night after there had been a string of robberies in the area. She came in through the back which she knew would be open even though she’d advised the Stewarts on more than one occasion to keep it locked. By the time the gunman saw her, she’d already had the drop on him. He surrendered uneventfully, and is still serving out a lengthy prison term. It seemed like he got away with nothing, but honestly there were things lost that day. Mr. Stewart, had always been a good, honest, and trusting man, he saw the good in everyone he encountered, but after that night he’d lost some of his faith in people. His precious Mary had hurt her leg in the fall, and it never seemed to heal correctly. He still shuddered to think what might have happened had Abbie not came upon them that night.

“Ichabod!” She called excited.

“Mrs. Stewart.” Ichabod cooed falling into a bow. “How is it that you manage to become undefeatably more beautiful every time that I see you.” He flirted.

“Oh, such a charmer, and I told you call me Mary.” She said giving him a hug. “And who is this you have with you today?” She asked looking at Jenny.

“Pardon my manners this is Miss Jenny Mills, Abigail’s sister.” He informed them.

“Hi.” Jenny waved, still unsure what they were doing there.

Mary pulled her glasses from the string around her neck, and placed them over her eyes as she studied Jenny’s face, going so far as to do a turn about her. “Of course you are dear, of course you are.” She said smiling fondly.

“You may not remember me but I remember you, and your sister from the time you were just small children. You were both the darlingest little things. I remember your mother brought you both in, oh you couldn’t have been more than four and five. She bought you both jade bangles for good luck.”

An expression touched Jenny face, one of a fleeting memory she chased, as images of the green bangle on her tiny wrist flashed across her mind. She only remembered it faintly, but it was there. She and Abbie wore those bracelets everyday until they feared they would grow so tight that they wouldn’t be able to remove them. It’s funny she hardly remembered wearing the bangles, but she remembered every moment of their mother taking them off.

“I remember that. I mean the bracelets.” Jenny recognized a look in Mary’s eyes she had seen many times before. It was almost like a pitying gaze, she’d noticed it in some of the townsfolk after she and Abbie saw Moloch in the woods. Almost as if they knew something about her that she didn’t, it always unsettled her.

“So Ichabod, how’s our hero? We haven’t seen her in quite some time. Did she like the necklace you got her?” Mary beamed.

“She’s quite well Mary, and she was most pleased with the necklace, she wears it often.” Ichabod replied.

“So what brings you by today, not that you need an excuse to come and visit, you’re welcome anytime.” She said patting his arm.

“I was passing by and saw the light on.” He knotted his hands behind his back and spoke somewhat hesitantly. “I hoped that I could happen a glance at your…marital engagement collection.” He said with a courageous breath.

Mary and Jenny’s stretched as wide as all outdoors. “Oh my!” Mary exclaimed clasping her hands together just under her chin.

“What?” Jenny gasped.

“Of course you can my dear boy, of course you can.” She beamed. “I always had an inkling about the two of you.” She stated, starting toward the jewelry case where the diamonds were held.

“Mary honey, you’re pushing.” Mr. Stewart admonished. “The young man hasn’t said one way or the other who the ring is for.”

“Well Jack, of course it’s for Abbie, who else could it be?” She said confidently, but cast her eyes to Ichabod for confirmation.

“It is indeed.”

“Well congratulations son, she’s quite a girl.” Jack opined.

“That she is.” Ichabod said joining them at the display case. He looked back to find Jenny frozen in her tracks. She plastered a fake smile across her face.

“Umm Crane, do you think I can have a word with you.” She tilted her head towards the door. “Outside, it’ll only take a moment.”

“Miss Jenny…”

“—Oh go on dear, it’s no problem really, we’re going to be here for quite some time today.” Mary reassured him.

“Are you certain that it is no imposition?” He asked.

“None at all.” Mr. Stewart replied.

Jenny rubbed her hands across her arms as they stepped out into the cool evening air.

“Crane, when I was asking you if you knew where things were going with my sister I didn’t mean to push you into anything.” She said fighting off a shiver.

“Miss Jenny, marriage is not something I would dare dream of entering into lightly, or upon a whim, or to reassure anyone else of anything.” Ichabod thought of the things that he could say to relay to Jenny his motivations for doing what he was doing. But at the end of all the many reasons he had for wanting to make Abbie his wife, one stood above all others.

“I love her, Jenny.” He said with complete certainty, not an ounce or drop of hesitation in his voice. “I love her.” He echoed, watching as the hint of a smile touched Jenny’s lips.”

“I can’t believe this, it’s just…wow. But Ichabod have you spoken to Abbie about any of this?” She asked concerned. He started to answer her inquiry but was distracted by the ringing of his phone. He immediately pulled it from his pocket thinking that it might be Abbie, but wasn’t surprised that it was Bren, being that he’d noticed three missed calls from him after he recharged his phone.

“It is odd for him to call so repetitively, I should take this.”

Jenny got the hint, and went inside to look at rings while she waited for him.

“Bren.” Ichabod answered.

“Bro, I’ve been calling you all weekend, what’s up.”

“Yes my cellular device has not been charged for a few days.”

“Listen listen, never mind all that, so I was supposed to play tennis with Matt yesterday, but he cancelled on me. When I asked him why he couldn’t make it, he slipped up, and said because he had to finish working on your compensation package.”

“My compensation package? I already have one in effect.”

“That’s just it, that’s your old compensation package, this can only mean one thing, they’re going to offer you an associate professorship.”

“An associate professorship?” Ichabod curiously repeated his sentence. “But how can this be, I am merely in my second semester of teaching, and I have yet to see any postings for a position.” He wondered aloud.

“Well that’s because they very quietly posted it Wednesday. Clearly Peters is out.” Bren stated.

“Oh Peters.” Ichabod drawled recalling the man the entire school was buzzing about for having reportedly been caught having sex with a freshman during his office hours.

“Exactly, he’s never coming back from sabbatical, so that leaves a position open in your department, and that’s not all, did you receive an email from Harvard’s Distinguished Professor of History, Mark Dawkins?”

Ichabod smiled briefly, “I did, he sent a very kind missive stating that he’d thoroughly enjoyed my editorial, and inquired as to whether I had plans of expounding upon some of the idea’s presented therein. I wrote him back thanking him for his kind compliment, and informed him of my intention to complete a book upon the subject. How did you come to find out about that?” Ichabod asked.

“I got it out of Matt. Apparently someone from Harvard contacted the university asking for permission to engage in negotiations with you, and mentioned that one of their professors had already made contact.”

“Harvard? Is interesting in engaging in negotiations with me?” Ichabod repeated. He would have expressed his disbelief, but honestly his arrogance wouldn’t allow him to feel anything but worthy.

“Yes sir.” Bren chimed. “Look man, the university realizes what they have in you, the chair in your department has maybe another three years left in her, and then she’s heading towards retirement. They want to streamline you into that position to keep you from leaving for Harvard or anywhere else. If you decide to stay do NOT, I repeat man DO NOT take less than ninety.”

“Ninety? Ninety what?” Ichabod questioned. He was earning approximately twelve hundred dollars per credit hour, and was at present time teaching two four credit courses. He grossed roughly twenty-four hundred dollars per month during the semester.

“Ninety thousand.”

“Dollars?” Ichabod said making certain they were speaking of the same thing.

“Of course dollars, what do you think I’m talking about? Duggan the Sociology professor, is a categorical moron, same assignments year in year out, never changes a thing win, lose, or draw, and even he’s pulling in eighty. That department has some money, don’t let them tell you otherwise. Look I’ve been through this, I know the game. They’re going to offer you around fifteen thousand less than that, counter offer asking for the additional fifteen thousand, and they will meet it, trust me.”

Ichabod rubbed his hand across his forehead, unable to believe what he was hearing. Feeling the coolness of his forehead is what brought him back to reality, causing him to remember that he was standing outside.

“Bren, I have no words to thank you, I had absolutely no idea that any of this was happening.”

“No problem man, I’m happy for you. Everything makes sense now, just last week the head of my department asked me what I thought of you. Clearly they’ve had you in mind since last semester, but the probably didn’t forsee other institutions showing an interest in you before the end of spring term. That editorial couldn’t have come at a better time for you, my dude. Aye I almost forgot what ended up happening with Abbie, did you finally talk to her?”

Bren could hear the happiness in his friend’s voice when he responded. “I did, I told her all which I have been withholding from her, the distance between us is no more.”

“Wooord! That’s what’s up, so you guys are good?”

“We are, quite good.” Ichabod replied grinning.

“YOOO, YOU SMASHED?! Bren sang out overly excited.

Ichabod could hear a small high pitched voice coming through the phone, and new immediately it belonged to. “Smashed what daddy? Is everything okay?”

Bren’s faced contorted when he looked down to see his five year old daughter tugging at his pants leg. “Hey princess I didn’t see you there, daddy’s fine baby, go see mommy, he said pushing her toward the living room where his wife and son were stationed.

“Bren, a gentlemen never reveals such details. Look I have to run, I am currently at the jewelry store.”

“This time of day, on a Sunday, what are you doing robbing it?”

“I am actually preparing to view their bridal ring selection.” Ichabod stated proudly.

“GOOODDD DAMNN!” Bren yelled into the phone. “It was that good, are you for real right now?”

“Bren, I have to run, I will talk with you tomorrow at work.” He chuckled as he hung up the phone.

When he entered the shop the Stewarts and Jenny had selected an array of rings for him to view. After careful consideration he narrowed it down to three and asked Jenny her opinion on them. He already knew which one he wanted for Abbie, he just wanted to see if Jenny would select the same one. She quickly dismissed the first, because it was too big.

“This is a little over three and a half carats, a two carat oval shaped solitaire with a little more than one and a half carat wrap. It’s SI1, color E.” Mary informed them. In her line of work, Abbie was constantly on the go, and interacting with so many different facets of the community. A big bulky ring would make her feel self-conscious and she would never wear it.    

“It’s gorgeous, but not for Abbie.” Jenny stated. The second one she eliminated was a beautiful one carat emerald shaped diamond, with another half carat around the perimeter. She really found nothing wrong with it except for the fact that she had totally fallen in love with the ring Ichabod had placed in the center. It was simple, but beautiful, and would suit her sister perfectly. Jenny held the ring up offering a faint little smile.

“That is a one and a half carat round brilliant cut diamond, set there in a tapered bead set band. The diamonds on the side of the band are an additional carat, bringing it to around two and a half carats.” It is VVS2, color D. VVS means that it’s very, very slightly included, that means that under 10x magnification it’s very difficult for even me, and I’m a skilled grader to see the inclusions. But I can.” Jack welcomed Jenny and Ichabod behind the counter so he could show them the diamond under the microscope.

“That’s really cool.” Jenny commented before taking a peek at the price tag. “Oh boy!” She looked over at Ichabod wide eyed. “Could you do a setting like this with say an SI1 diamond?” She asked, but Ichabod spoke up before Jack could answer.

“I’ll take it.” Ichabod nodded off to a sign he’d spotted on the wall. “You offer a payment plan, do you not?”

“We sure do. Mary..” The older man looked over at his wife, who knew instantly what he was thinking after forty-seven years of marriage. She nodded and smiled widely at her husband, coming to wrap her arms around him.

“Since this ring is for Abbie, we’re going to offer you our one and only, you saved our life discount. We’ll sell you the diamond at cost.” Mary beamed. Ichabod and Jenny were flabbergasted. Ichabod tried to refuse such favor but after five minutes he realized the couple wouldn’t have it any other way. The only way he was getting that diamond for Abbie was if he agreed to purchase it at the price they’d set.

Ichabod pulled out his bankcard. “I’d like to place a one thousand dollar payment on the ring today.” Mary opened him an account and helped him with his payment. Afterwards she stepped over to Jenny and examined her ring finger size.

“You’re a five, and I bet your sister’s finger is just a little smaller than yours.”

“Yes ma’am it is.” Jenny answered.

“Okay so I bet her ring size is a four.” Mary said returning to the other side of the display case demarcating Abbie’s ring size in her notes.

Jenny looked at her future brother in law as they bounded back to the car. He looked like such a fool in love, smiling as if the snowflakes falling on him were made of pure gold.

“That was some ring Ichabod Crane.” She smiled getting into the car.

“Miss Jenny, I do believe that is the first time you’ve ever called me by my name.”

“Ahh well, don’t get used to it.”

“Too late, admit it I am the brother you have always wanted.” He teased.

“I don’t know about _always_ …a little over year ago you were one bowl of cinnamon toast crunch away from me slitting your throat in your sleep,” She looked over at him, “But I’ll admit you’ve grown on me…a little” She added a little choked up. Ichabod recognized the truthfulness in the moment and bowed his head to her before stating.

“As you have upon me.”

An hour later they were shuffling into the kitchen carrying a grocery bags filled with the items Abbie had requested, as well as bags filled with copious amounts of pineapple juice. Abbie had only listed orange juice on the grocery list, but Jenny insisted upon pineapple. When Ichabod questioned what it was for, she informed him it was for him, and that he would thank her later. Abbie came down fresh from her bath to help them put things away.

“Hey,” She greets them walking into the kitchen. “The roads must be terrible, I thought I’d have to send out a search party for you two. Are there any more bags?”

“You know how Icky has to touch everything in the store, nope we got everything.” Jenny replies stifling a yawn. She looked up to find Ichabod busy gawking at Abbie like he was seeing her for the first time. Like he hadn’t seen her in a white t-shirt and those same light gray joggers a dozen times before. She’d flat ironed her hair while they were out. He absolutely adored her curls, but he found her equally attractive with her hair fixed as it was, straight, but still thick, and lustrous. A chill ran through him, and his heart stopped a little as he fully began to comprehend that she was his.

“Baby.” He heard speaking and quickly began to fight his way back to reality. He was baby, that was his title, the affection term that she had bestowed upon him. He heart stopped at the way the word sounded when she said it, her voice soft and full as if it were wrapped in honey. He spoke immediately before some other advantageous person swooped in out of nowhere, and sought to claim the title as their own.

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?” she asked worrying that his silence was due to Jenny giving him the third degree.

“No.” He lightly shook his head trying to clear away the clouds. “Yes, yes.” He took her hands and his and brought them up to his lips.

“I confess myself overawed by your splendor. You look...” He shook his head unable to complete his sentence. There wasn’t a word suitable to adequately describe how becoming she was to him.

Abbie smiled and grabbed her sweats. “It’s just my grubbies, but thanks for the compliment, I’ll take it any way I can get it.” She stretched up and gave him a quick peck on the lips.  

“Stay just where you are, I’ll return in a moment.” Ichabod stated hurrying out of the door. He returned clutching an arrangement of roses and lilies he’d picked up at the supercenter.

“They were out of tulips, but I rather hoped you would enjoy them nonetheless.” He said hesitantly unsure of how she might react to his offering. He’d never gotten the chance to work on her garden last year as he had hoped.

Abbie leaned forward sniffing her flowers. “I love them.” She said taking them from his grasp. And pressing her nose against the petals again.

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

His hand found the rest upon her waist. “I wanted you to have them.” He stated.

“They’re beautiful, I’ll get a vase for them.” Abbie headed to the laundry/light storage room to scurry up a vase. She heard Ichabod’s long strides quickly closing in behind her, but she still yelped when his arms wrapped around her.

“I missed you.” He said in a voice that swathed around every inch of her heart. He closed the door with his foot, never taking his arms from around her. In seconds he’d hoisted her up onto the washing machine and centered himself between his legs. The low hum and tumble of the dryer filled the room as his hands cinched around her waistline.   Her legs circled around him, while her hands found their way around his neck. Ichabod’s pulse skyrocketed, he still hadn’t learned to temper his reaction to her touching him this way, he didn’t know that he ever would. Her scent found him, a subtle floral fragrance containing the tiniest hint of lilac, the way she always smelled fresh from the shower. He noticed her lush lips were covered in gloss highlighting their natural soft pink hue. He was unable to take his eyes off of them, leaning closer to her until his forehead rested against hers. Abbie didn’t move forward or back, she simply waiting to feel his lips against hers.

“So tell me Mr. Crane,” She paused sliding her tongue across her gloss covered lips. “Exactly how much did you miss me?” He bent.  Everything.  His back, his head, his will, and took her soft lips between his. A low building rumble grew from his throat as his tongue caressed hers seeking to show her precisely how much she was missed. His hand lifted from her hair colliding with the cabinet behind her.  He braced against it to keep himself from thrusting into her. It didn’t work. His hand already draped around her waist tightened to hold her in place as his hips ground a slow hard circle into her middle. Her mouth opening to release her moans made him realize he was going too far, and almost as quickly as the kiss began it ended. He took a step back panting for breath. His hand fell over the front of his pants trying to tame the bulge that had hardened beneath them. It wasn’t lost on Abbie, who let out a soft grunt, thinking about what was underneath his outstretched hand. She knew first hand, what was under there, and how indescribably blissful it made her feel. She loved when he kissed, and licked her below, but if she had a choice, she would choose to have him inside of her, every time, without fail.

She sighed wistfully, reaching out, and using her thumb to brush her gloss away from his lips.

“Well, I have to put my flowers in a vase.” She leaned over, and grabbed a vase from her folding table as he helped her down.

“We found one.” Abbie announced as they made it back to the kitchen.

“Oh I bet you did.” Jenny snickered.

Ichabod felt slightly embarrassed from Jenny’s innuendo, it had taken everything in him to keep from lavishing kisses upon Abbie the moment he saw her. The laundry room he thought was a most appropriate compromise.

“Well, I have some reading to tend to,” He said lifting his book from the table. “You both enjoy yourselves, I shall be in the study if you need me.”

“Oh wait, Icky here!” Jenny came over holding out a tall glass of pineapple juice. “Why thank you Miss Jenny, I am rather parched.” He stated looking curiously at the glass, trying to determine what he’d done to receive such hospitality.

“Don’t mention it.”  

Once Ichabod was out of the room Jenny pulled the cucumbers back out of the refrigerator, so she and Abbie could get to work.

“Okay as soon as you’re done come over here and grab that veggie peeler.”

Abbie turned on the faucet holding the tips of her flowers under running water as she trimmed the ends. “I had a can of soup right after you guy’s left, what is it we’re making.”

“Penises.”

“What?!” Abbie gasped twisting her head around, eye’s bulging out.

“How else do you expect to learn how to give a decent blowjob? She quickly assembled her flowers into the vase, before joining her sister.

“Okay pick one that’s close to his size, it doesn’t have to be perfect, but keep in mind that some of it will be cut down. Abbie looked down at the array of cucumbers, spread out across the countertop. She examined them carefully, sliding her fingers over the cool vegetables, circling her digits around them to check their girth.

“This one.” She said separating her selection from the pack. Jenny lifted her eye brows.

“Okay.” She left the counter and walked over to her purse, fishing through it, and removing her mini vaseline vile. “Here you want to make sure your lips are really moisturized.” She said handing it to Abbie.

Abbie followed Jenny’s instruction, carving the top her cucumber in the likeness of the head of Ichabod’s penis as best she could. After that, she spent the better part of an hour trying a few tips that Jenny had given her to quell her gag reflex.

“It’s simply mind over matter. Also you can squeeze your left thumb, but the problem with that is it would be better if that hand is free to fondle his boys. Your right hand will stay around him.”   Ultimately her sister informed her that it would just take time and practice. She was having so much fun practicing, chattering, and hanging out with her that she barely noticed the hours slip by.

“So remember don’t start with just shoving it into your mouth.”   Jenny held up her cucumber diagraming as she spoke. “Wet every side of it first, and the tip. Guys are different some of them like a neat bj, some like them very messy, pay attention to his responses. And don’t forget to really use your lips, God gave you those things for a reason.”

Abbie doubled over laughing. “I highly doubt is was for the purpose of giving head.”

“You never know.” Jenny smirked. “Okay let’s see your technique one more time.”

Abbie lifted her cucumber and began reenacting some of the movements Jenny had showed her. She was in the middle of full on deep throating when Ichabod crept quietly into the kitchen.    

“What in heavens are you two up to?” He asked tilting his head to the side, trying to make sense of why Abbie had three quarters of a vegetable shoved down her throat. Abbie thought she would die from inescapable embarrassment as she quickly pulled the offending object from her mouth.

“We umm, weeeee—got hungry!” She hurriedly stated.

“Yeah we were just…famished.” Jenny almost managed to say without giggling.

“Yeah so we were just…” Abbie bit off the top of her cucumber. “Oh it’s so good.” She commented wanting for the first time to misuse her powers to escape to another realm. She returned the vegetable to the counter.

“Yummy.” Jenny followed suit before Ichabod had a chance to closely examine hers. “Anyway, what are you up to, all finished reading?”

Ichabod knew there was something off with the girls, but he couldn’t quite place it. He had the distinct impression that their little secret conversation had something to do with him.

“I am. It seems the long day has gotten the better of me, and I find myself quite tired. I think I am going to have a cool drink and retire for the evening.” He said looking at Abbie.   He strolled over to the fridge to pour himself another glass of juice.  

“Well I hate to eat and run but, someone’s waiting on me.” Jenny said, leaving the kitchen to retrieve her coat from the rack.

“Uh Jenny, are you sure you have to go so soon? I mean you just got here.” Abbie said following her over. Jenny smiled at her sister. There was no way in hell she was spending the night in this house for at least two weeks. She already had her fill of the two of them make dumbstruck goo-goo eyes at each other and she’d only been there half the day.

“I do, I promised Frank.” She wasn’t lying, she did tell him that she was just running home to check on them, and she’d be back before long.

“But we forgot to talk about the…” Abbie turned over her shoulder to find Ichabod staring quizzically in their direction. “faucet..in the downstairs bathroom. It’s been leaking a little.”

Jenny furrowed her brows struggling to take her sisters meaning.

“How to I keep it from…” Abbie raised her brows, “running down the drain. Because it seems…gross. Should I stop it long before it has the chance, or just before…it runs…you know, down the drain?”

“Oh yeah, the drain.” Jenny said bringing her hand to her forehead. “I think it’s a matter of personal preference.   Me myself I’ve once before let it..run down the drain, and it was totally fine because at the time it was my most special faucet. Your particular faucet is really clean, and the pipes running to it seem to have very clean…water running through them. Whatever you put in them, is what comes out, and whoever installed _those_ pipes was very mindful of the waters that ran through them, so it should be good. Also the stuff I put in them just earlier today, —the juice—she whispered quietly—helps tremendously. So you don’t need to worry about…” Jenny leaned forward, “taste”. Therefore if you want to let it run down the drain, I don’t think it will be a problem.” Abbie cringed she had no intention of allowing him to cum inside of her mouth.

“No n no n no no no, Jenny!” Abbie said buck eyed, “You misunderstood, I don’t want it in the drain, under any circumstances.” She stated under a nervous smile.  

“If there is an issue with the faucet I will be more than happy to have a look at it, and what is the issue with the drain, perhaps it is something that I can rectify.” Ichabod offered, having crept upon them.

A muffled whine escaped from Jenny’s mouth that sounded as if she was dying a quiet death from suffocation. “No, n-no. Abbie turned around to face him. “It’s fine, Jenny and I have pretty much figured it out.”

“Are you certain, Abbie it really is no trouble.”

“No, I know, but, we got it.” She grinned, turning back to Jenny, who half fell against her. Ichabod was perplexed by their curious behavior, but had learned in the past that they often retreated to their own world. He never sought to break in, but on a few occasions he’d been invited. Recognizing that this was not one, he finished his juice and prepared to head up to bed.    

“Hey Icky, so your reading, did it turn up anything on Moloch.”

“Perhaps.” He said exuding an air of cautious excitement. “I have to consult another text, but I am hopeful that we are finally headed in the correct direction.”

“Good, I hope so too.” Jenny said glancing at her sister. “Alright, you two have a good night.” She said smiling as Ichabod wrapped an arm around Abbie, he’d approached her to kiss her cheek before heading upstairs, but it appeared Miss Jenny was leaving.

“I’m happy that you guys found one another. At long last.” She added shaking her head.

After saying their goodbyes to Jenny, the pair straightened up the kitchen and decided to turn in. It was a little earlier than they normally went off to bed, but they’d utilized a ton of energy all weekend.

Somewhere between the kitchen and the top of the stairs, Abbie began to talk herself into a bunch of unpleasant feelings that she’d never really considered. Like was it presumptuous for her to presume that just because she wanted to sleep together again tonight that he felt the same way. He was used to courting women in a different sort of way. What if he wanted some space, or just a little time to himself, and was too kind to say as much. After all, he did say that he was exhausted. It was a delicate situation, them living together. They were already so interwoven into each other’s lives, it was almost as if they were skipping the dating faze altogether and just jumping ahead into a serious monogamous relationship. Ironically, that’s precisely what Abbie wanted, him and only him, but she had to be sure that he wanted the same thing. When they made it to the landing Abbie looked at him hesitantly before rising to her tiptoes, and laying a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Okay good night. I love you.” She said before turning and walking into her bedroom. She shut the door behind her and stared at it. She sighed thinking that if he wanted her with him, he probably would have stopped her before she entered. She purposely walked slowly to give him an opportunity to do just that. A few minutes later she sat in the middle of her bed trying to decide if she should just go and tell him how she was feeling. She couldn’t. He was too sweet, and would invite her to sleep with him, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

Ichabod stood staring at Abbie’s bedroom door, trying to decide if this practice was typical in modern day courting, or if he had done something to upset her. His heart sank when he saw the light fad from under her door. He twisted his hands in on one another before wrapping one of them around her doorknob.

“Abbie.” He called quietly as he entered. He watched as she sat up into the light creeping in from her window.

“Yes.” She responded.

“Have I done something…to upset you, to offend you?” He asked, unsure if he was ready to hear the answer.  

“No.” He heard her reply quietly. He paced to the front of her bed, the space just under his knees touching it directly.

“Then…why are you not coming to rest in my bed, to lay your head beside mine?” He asked trying to mask his wounds.

Abbie reached out taking his hand into hers. “I wasn’t sure whether or not you wanted me there.” She looked down at her blankets. “I didn’t want to force it.” She felt the weight of his knee settle onto the edge of her bed before feeling his hands slip beneath her rear. He pulled her up until her legs twined around his body, pausing only to bend and retrieve her satin covered pillow. The next thing she knew he was quietly carrying her through the hallway, she watched over his shoulder as the doorway to her room faded in the distance. The house was completely silent, the only noise came from the sound of his feet falling against the floor. She breathed a sigh of relief, they were together and all was as it should be, she was totally at peace in his arms. He sat her down on his bed, and kneeled on his knees in front of her, taking her hands into his.

“I was endeavoring to be more modern, more a man of the times, but in doing so, I am afraid that I have presented you with less of myself. You have these thoughts that perhaps I do not wish to have you with me, because I have not made it plain that….it is my _most_ solemn wish and prayer Grace Abigail Mills, that I never rest my head without yours beside it again. So that there is never from here forward any further confusion, please know that I fully intend to take you as my bride, and I your husband.”

“Ichabod.” Abbie said growing alarmed.

“Abbie. I know that there are customs to be adhered to, and I want you to know that I stopped today, and looked toward acquiring a ring for you.

“What”, she quietly gasped as Ichabod continued.

“However my finances are such that I was unable to purchase one on this day, but I trust that you hear, and believe me when I _swear_ to you that I will.”

Abbie was speechless gawking at him trying to wrap her head around what he was telling her. He was looking at rings?

“You do not deserve such, to have me before you, empty handed, unable to offer you anything save my heart. But here I am.” He searched her eyes trying to find some clue as to what she was thinking. About everything. About him.

“Abbie….I can be more than what I am today, I am merely asking that you to leave a light on for me, while I seek to get my affairs in order. Until I am able to make you my wife.” He pleaded.

“Ichabod no.” She said raising up on her knees, and pulling him up onto the bed.

“No?” He said slowly his face mirroring his feelings which felt as though they had just been crushed. He hadn’t expected to hear that.

“No, not that but…Baby where is all of this coming from, you know that things are different now. We don’t have to get married just to be together. I get the feeling that you are somehow trying to make an honest woman of me, but sweetie the things that we do in the bedroom, in our bedroom, have no effect on my integrity as a woman.”

“I know that Abbie. I know that things are not as they were, but still it seems to be a part of normal behavior, otherwise people would not bother entering into marriage at all. Why just last week whilst I was scanning through the television channels I came across a song by Beyoncé, a cautionary tale of woe. The song seemed to chastise lack of action from men. Specifically she ridiculed what I presume was an ex-lover, stating if you like it than you should have put a ring on it.” His voice fell to a whisper, as he rose to his knees and pulled her up to hers, his arms stretched around her. “And I like it…I love it Abbie.” He breathed.

Abbie couldn’t help but grin. She sighed, gazing up into his half lidded eyes. “You like what?” She cooed in a seductive little tone.

“All of it.” He replied leaning over her. “Everything you are, and do. Your smile, your laugh, your heart. The way you touch me, both inside and out. The way you love me.” It was quiet as they stared into one another’s eyes, breathing in the moment, letting in surround them. She hears his breath hitch, and moans even before his lips touch hers. Her back falls against the mattress, and he instinctually falls over her, chasing her soft kisses. Their legs wedge in between one another’s, as their hands slowly caress, and tug their way across the other’s body. Abbie brings one of her legs up, and closes it around him. He follows her movement, naturally slipping a hand between her rear and the mattress trying to pull her even closer. He’s become far too excited, much too fast but he doesn’t care. He pushes himself up onto his hunches and gripped the bottom of her joggers, easily sliding them off. He was met with the daintiest sliver of fabric he had ever seen, quite a departure from the boy shorts he had previously removed from her. White and lace, accentuating her sinuous figure, he felt his cock stretch and stiffen, even though he did not think it possible to become any harder. His fingers reached out seemingly on their own and drug feathery lines across the lace. Abbie lifted herself up enough to remove her shirt, then fell back onto the bed. _More white lace_ Ichabod thought as his eyes traveled up along the swell of her bosom. He brought his hand to one of the slits in the fabric that left exposed a portion of her breast. She had it all, he thought. He immediately fell over her, taking her lips, opening his mouth and dragging his tongue across her throat.

“So is it settled then, you will have me.” He gasped.

“As many times as you ask me to.” Abbie said between breaths. Ichabod pulled his head back from her trying to ascertain whether they were on the same page.

“As your husband.” He said quietly. Abbie stretched up to taste his lips, wondering why he seemed to be stopping just as everything was getting so good.

“Baby we talked about this.” It wasn’t until she said it that she realized they hadn’t. They started to, and then he said something she found cute, and here they were. Abbie sat up leaning her back against the headboard trying desperately to focus her attention on something other than the terrible ache between her legs. It was easier said than done, especially when she couldn’t stop thinking about what he had between his. His beautiful eyes and tussled hair weren’t doing anything to help either.

Ichabod sat up. “I spoke about it, you’ve yet to reply.” He said touching his lips, almost as if he were only realizing. “Abbie this is not simply a matter of your reputation, or your integrity, but my heart. I confess myself weak at the mere thought of you.” Ichabod swallowed hard.

“Yours is not the only heart that needs protecting, and I am not sure that I can continue to do what we have been doing, without some assurances.” He said carefully.

_Hold on a second was that an ultimatum,_ she thought.

“Wait, what do you mean by that, because it sounded a lot like an ultimatum?”

“I did not intend for it to be such, but I indeed meant it as it sounds. Abbie you don’t have to marry me today or tomorrow, so long as you promise that one day you will.”

She looked at the clock, on his nightstand wishing they were spending these moments doing things other than discussing institutions she didn’t fully believe in. Abbie inhaled and exhaled deeply.

“Ichabod, what you were saying, about not having a lot money, or a ring…you know that those things mean nothing to me, don’t you. If I wanted a wealthy man, I would have one. I want you, I only want you, isn’t it enough.” Her hand slid around his fingers, and he covered it with his other hand.

Ichabod stared at her hearing everything she said, and what was to be inferred. She was crafty that way. She felt threatened by what he said, and immediately sought to remind him that she could have her pick of the litter, while simultaneously stroking his ego by reiterating the fact that she chose him.

“Simply not as your husband.” He said furrowing his brow, refusing to get off course.    

“What does that mean, husband, wife, marriage, any of it?” She questioned.

“Surely you know the meaning of each of those terms Abbie, you are speaking in riddles when I need you to speak plainly.” You say that you want me, but…” Ichabod stated.

“And I do, I just…my parents were married Ichabod. When I was a little girl, I used to read all of these fairytales, and the princess would fall in love and marry the prince, and they would live happily ever after. I read so many of them that I believed it, all of it. It never really occurred to me that it might not be true, that it might not be the whole story. I’d seen pictures of my parents on their wedding day, so I just assumed that we would all live happily ever after too. Only it didn’t work out that way, and when the tide rose there was nothing on that piece of paper to save them from drowning. To save us from drowning. I feel like Jenny and I have just only managed to find our way to shore…and you’re asking me, to get back into the water.”

“I am asking you to join me, for I am already here, and I will _never_ let you drown.” She knew he meant it, and against her better judgment she’d been dipping her feet in the water since the moment she met him. And then Friday, she finally went out for a swim.

“Abbie, I know it hurts, but we are not your parents. When you speak of the demons that we now know tortured your mother I do not for one moment believe that you are insane, I believe you because I see them too. And even if I did not, I would never entertain the thought of seeking comfort in the arms of another woman. Your parents couldn’t have begun to understand the nature of the forces they were dealing with, treasure they had no chance. It was meant to happen this way, our stories. The way things ended with my father, and your parents. And as much as I love you, and never want to lose you, if I could I would go back and rewrite your story. Just to spare you from all the pain that you have suffered through. Because I love you as a man should, and I place your desires and wellbeing at the pinnacle of my entire existence. But I cannot go back and undo what has been done. I do not know the exact meaning of the words husband and wife, all that I know is that I will sacrifice every drop of blood in my body, and every inch of my soul, for you…is _that_ not enough.” Abbie sat forward, leaning closer to him.

“It’s more than enough, you are more than enough. And I know you wouldn’t let me drown. You have to know that I am already there with you, if nothing else Ichabod, tell me you know that.” She added cupping her hand to his cheek. "But I don’t believe that a union of love requires anything more than a commitment to each other in the face of God.”

“But what does that mean?"  He asked fighting back irritation.

“I mean I don’t want to define us with someone else’s words, or the customs of this world. What we have…it stretches beyond anything here, who are they to say what we are. Think about it less than fifty years ago there were places in this country that would have forbade us from marrying, from living as husband and wife. All because of the color of our skin. Hell Ichabod there are still people living in this country today, people who love each other, but because they’re the same sex they don’t have the legal right to marry.”

“Thankfully that is changing.” He commenting bringing her hand to his lips.

“It is, but it’s still happening, and it’s still wrong. Who are they to say? So I serve, and I protect the citizens of the state, but I do not want to look toward the state for their stamp of approval on anything pertaining to you and I, and _our_ love. I don’t want to give _anyone_ the power to say what our love is. Fuck them.”    

A hint of a smile played at Ichabod’s lips. "I agree, but…”

“But.” Abbie hummed, stealing a kiss from his lips.

“But we live in this world. What happens in the event of a medical crisis, or if I should perish, and you are unable to inherit my estate, why should the last name of our children be different from yours.”

“Advance directive, what estate, and who says the children won’t have my last name.”

“Abbie!” Ichabod warned with every ounce of humor drained from his face. Abbie couldn’t help but reach out and squeeze his cheeks.

“Okay, okay, I could change my last name.” She giggled, watching as he seemed to relax again. He looked on as she smiled, and it became absolutely clear the God was in the room. That’s when it dawned on him what she said about only needing to declare their love for one another in the presence of God. Truth be told, he always held a little part of himself back from fully believing. His faith was never what it should have been. But knowing her made it clear to him that somewhere out there, there was a creator, something had to have created her. Nothing that good could have simply been without divine intervention. She took his breath away. Ichabod stood from the bed and pulled Abbie into the center of the room. Abbie looked up at him, trying to determine what he was doing, just as he bent, and rested his weight upon one knee. He took her hand.

“Grace Abigail Mills, Apple, you have breathed a life into me that I never dreamed existed. I cannot merely state that you are the love of my life, because I somehow know that I will continue to love you for all of time. I am thousands of miles and days away from the only place I had ever known as home. But I have found my true home in you.” The tears that had been building behind Ichabod’s eyes spilled across his face.

“You are the only place that I have _ever_ found rest. Please marry me, here and now, in the face of God. I promise to love and honor you, to cherish you as the new day does the sun. I would move mountains upon your very whim, and fall upon the tip of my sword at the mere raise of your hand…Abbie say you will have me.” Abbie kneeled upon her knees taking Ichabod’s hands in hers.

“Ichabod Crane,” Abbie said stilling her tears. “I marry you here and now, before God and all of the heavens. I promise to love you and honor you…to protect you and place your care and well-being above all else. Before you came into my life, I didn’t know what it was to love, or to be loved in this way. I was a mess, and I ran from everyone who wanted to truly know me, but you taught me how to be still. Nothing makes me feel braver than you, I will face any challenge, wage any war, in order to keep you safe. I never want to be away from you, you’re my partner, my lover, my very best friend, and I have loved from the very depths of my soul since I was a little girl.” Ichabod’s mouth fell open, as he tried to understand her meaning. He wanted to question her about it, but she gave him a little look indicating that she would fill him in on the particulars later. So he simply listened for now.

“You’re the man of my dreams, and I give myself to you, all of me, holding nothing in reserve, opening every door, and dismantling every wall.” Ichabod fought back more tears hearing her say those words. He knew who she was before, and how much she must have loved him to give herself so completely. “I would follow you to the ends of the earth, and keep going. From this day forward, I am yours, your life partner, your wife, for all of eternity.”

Ichabod bent to kiss his wife, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his fingers into her shoulders. He melted into her as her hands found the skin underneath his shirt. He pulled her against his body, and picked them up from the floor. Just as he was laying her across the bed he remembered something. She sprinkled him with kisses as he fought against taking her lips long enough to pull away.

“Mmm my love,” He mumbled between kisses. Abbie stood up on the bed wrapping her arms around his shoulders, not wanting to let him go.

“Apple, ohhh.” He moaned as she tugged his bottom lip between her teeth. He was dizzy, he needed to lay down. He needed to lay down with her, immediately. He started to, but remembered what he was doing before she kissed him. A soft whine escaped her lips as he stood and walked over to his dresser. He moved things around his bottom drawer, tossing articles of clothing about in his search.

“Husband.” He turned to find Abbie on her knees in bed, twirling the bra that once covered her breast. He was dehydrated, because his throat clearly lacked an adequate supply of moisture.  

“One, one moment.” He turned back to the drawer hurriedly securing the tiny boxes he’d been searching for before rushing to her side.

He removed her ring from the box. The one she’d worn when she was pretending to be his wife in Oregon. The one she’d thrown into the wastebasket before asking him to forget what they were to each other. The one he’d secretly pulled from the trash and tucked inside of his suitcase. He’d written a simple note, and wrapped it around the box in case he perished and she found it at a later date. It read only; I have loved you most of all.

Abbie gasped when she saw the ring.

“I understand if you would rather not wear it, we can get new bands, but I thought perhaps…”

“I’ll wear it always.” She promised holding out her hand. Her heart was so full of love, she couldn’t help but shake a little as the cool metal of the ring slipped over her knuckle.   Abbie reached into the box, grabbing hold of Ichabod’s ring, and placed it on his finger. She pounced on him the second it was on, kissing him as he removed his sweater, tugging at his belt as his fingers struggled to get it unbuckled. Her back arched as his mouth covered her nipple, just before they tumbled into the bed. Ichabod locked their hands together pinning her left hand to the bed, while he sucked and licked at her lips and breast. Abbie gripped his waist thrusting her hips up against him trying to satisfy the unyielding ache that radiated from her core. Ichabod slid his fingers down her soft skin, finding the edges of her panties. He ran a few fingers over the fabric between her thighs, and nearly lost himself at her wetness soaking through them. They had to come off, and they had to come off now. He leaned back curling his fingers around them and sliding them down her silky smooth legs. He wondered briefly how her skin remained so soft and supple, then he recalled her daily ritual of applying her moisturizing lotion. He couldn’t resist lifting her panties to his nose, closing his eyes as he breathed in her essence. He looked down at her curls silkened with her desire. He took his finger up through them, then instantly closed his lips around the wet digit not wanting to waste a drop. His mouth was covering her folds in seconds, licking and slurping away at her.   Moaning his delight as his tongue twisted circles around her tiny pearl. She cried out as his long finger gently slipped into her core, resting there as he dined on her sweetness. She came—hard, singing her husband’s name and praises unabashedly. Ichabod was unimaginably hard, and ready to explode. Her body spread out before him, twisting and spilling over with adoration for him had worked him into quite a frenzy. He could hardly believe how quickly she rang out for him, he quietly applauded himself, or at least he thought so, he was practically midsentence before he realized that he was speaking out loud.

“Who can love you as I do?”

“No one.” She whimpered as he took her lips.

“Who can make you come like I do?"

“No one. Only you, only you.”   She huffed.

“That’s it, and I intend to never let you forget.” Ichabod reached down gripping himself, rubbing his swollen tip from her belly button down through her middle. He was surprised when Abbie’s hand found his to still his movements.

“Baby wait.”

“What is it my love, have I hurt you. Is it still painful…” He asked confused.

“No. I.” She pressed her hand to his chest easing him off of her, and straddled him as he leaned back against the bed. “I wanted you to know that, I’ve kept some things for you, and only you.”

“I know that Abbie, I can feel it when I touch you.” He sat up to take her lips. She pushed him back down and lay on top of him.

“Tonight, I wanted to share some of those things with you.” She said kissing her way down his torso. She paused when she came to his shaft, taking him in hand, and licking her lips as she wrapped her fingers around him. She brought her other hand down, gently caressing his sack as she drug her moist tongue up the side of his cock. She licked him liberally, almost as if she was taking a long drag off of an ice-cream cone, complete with the curl of her tongue at the top. Ichabod grunted, digging his fingers into the sheets as she followed up by repeating the motion up and down the opposite side and front and back. She placed a few moist kisses on the tip, paying proper homage to it for all the joy it brought her, before running her tongue across it.  

Ichabod drew in a piercing breath as his toes curled.

“Dear God Abbie, what are—Ah!” Ichabod chest seized and his words died a strangled death as Abbie took the full length of him down her throat. She held a ring around him using her thumb and forefinger following her lips as she bobbed up and down. She came up slowly, firmly pressing her tongue against the delicate skin underneath his manhood. The warm wetness from her mouth coated him as her lips slobbered over his hefty length. His hand ran through her soft straightened locks, as his eyes opened long enough for him to dare a glance at her. His head fell back digging into the pillow, he closed his eyes, too undone to continue seeing her beautiful lips wrapped around his cock. But the feel of them was inescapable.

“Ab—oh!” Ichabod’s face contorted, twisting and frowning up trying to find the strength to stop her. It didn’t work, and her next rise and fall shook him, restoring his expression to one of longing, and unrefined pleasure. Abbie expected for him to love it, but she never expected that she would as well. His reaction to her ministrations drove her wild. Every groan sent her bobbing about him more enthusiastically, and soon the ache between her thighs returned with blazing fury. She knew that the only thing that could satisfy it was the hardness between her lips, so she clung to it, humming her adulation over the pulsing flesh. The extent of her desire for him was only surpassed by her desire to please him, she couldn’t be stopped. Passionate noises sprang from the back of her throat every time his length touched it. She held him there longer and longer each time she took him in. She was worried before, about the taste of him, about him spilling down her throat. Those worries were extinguished the moment her tongue slid over his tip taking with it droplets of his precum. It was sweeter than she thought it would be. She blindly sucked away at him with the furiosity of a woman possessed.

“Aabbie—” Ichabod groaned trying to pull her head away. Realizing her time was short she held to him, redoubling her efforts, wanting to taste him in her mouth as long as she possible could.

Ichabod felt himself losing grip. “Aab—Wife!” He said pulling her head up refusing to be denied. He looked down at her swollen lips, too wound up to draw useful breath. This woman we be his destruction. He immediately grabbed her and threw her to the top of the bed, crawling over her kissing and sucking the lips that had serviced him so perfectly.  

“I wasn’t finished.” She whined pulling her knees to her side as she grabbed his erection. He moaned and replied by entering her. Ichabod forced himself to rock her with a slow and steady rhythm.   Caressing her and laying wet sloppy kisses and nibbles anywhere his mouth could reach. Lavishing her body with all of the reverence it deserved. He did this for as long as he could, slowly making love to her as if it were the very first time, until their bodies quivered, and yearned for more, when that happened he squeezed her tighter than he ever had, and fucked her like it would be the last.

The morning came much sooner than either one of them anticipated. They had been on a honeymoon of sorts, but the real world called breaking them out of the cocoon they’d sewn around themselves. Abbie stood in front of her mirror slipping into the long sleeve v neck tee she’d chosen for the day.

_Gun, badge, gum, chapstick, wallet. Okay that’s everything,_ She thought, scanning her dresser one final time. Her eyes fell to her left hand, looking down at the band that circled her fourth finger. She thought of the uncomfortable discussions that would arise should anyone notice it. Even though she’d worked at the station for years, she was still a very private person. People would inevitably ask if there was a ceremony, and wonder why they weren’t invited. She’d say it was an elopement of sorts, they’d ask where they were married, and she’d be forced to quasi explain their ultra-private marriage ceremony. Then people would judge her, judge them, and she’d be forced to snap the hell off. Abbie gripped the ring between her thumb and forefinger sliding it up and down across her finger while she thought.

“Having second thoughts?” Abbie saw Ichabod enter her room through her mirror and turned to face him. If she was having second thoughts, they immediately fell out of her head the moment she laid eyes on him. Somehow all this time she had been too busy falling in love with her husband to fully take notice of how fascinatingly fine he was. He wore taupe trousers, a grayish blue sweater vest over a light blue button up, all immaculately composed under a tweed jacket. Her eyes flinted across his cognac wing tipped shoes, noticing how they complimented his like colored tie. She had professors in college, a few of them were somewhat appealing, but they didn’t look like that. His hair was pulled into his signature half ponytail, just the way she liked it, when it wasn’t hanging loose.

“Are you.” He asked stepping closer.

“Am I what?” Abbie asked as soon as she remembered to breathe.

“Having doubts about our marriage?”

_Uh hell fuck no,_ she thought, but she said. “Not even a little bit.”

Ichabod took his new bride by the hand and pulled her into his embrace. “Good morning Mrs. Crane.” He mumbled against her lips.

“Good morning Mr. Crane, but I’m afraid I’m not Mrs. Crane just yet.”

“A minor stipulation that I hope you can began to attend to today.”

“I don’t know, you know how my Monday’s go baby. But I’m already Mrs. Crane in spirit, isn’t that all that counts?” Abbie cooed, only to have her coos met with a low growl of her husband’s disapproval.

“Okay I’ll see what I can do to get the paperwork rolling today.” She smiled up at him. “May I have a kiss now?” Ichabod picked Abbie up off of the ground causing her to erupt into laughter. Her chuckles her only quieted by his lips crashing against hers. She pulled back as she felt the kiss growing deeper.

“I have to go to work.” She commented staring at his chest after he lowered her to the ground. He ran his fingertips across her ring.

“What shall you say?” He asked.

“I will tell them to mind their own business. What will you tell them?” She questioned cradling his hand between her fingers.  

“I shall scream from the highest peak to any fool that chooses to listen that I am most happily wed to the former Abigail Mills.” Abbie laughed knowing thathe meant every word.

“I did hope to speak with you about something you said last night, I would have brought the subject forward then but..

“But you fell into a coma.”  Abbie teased.  Ichabod smiled sheepishly, remembering the bliss of the evening before.

“I fell to my slumber unexpectedly, yes.”

The pair sat down at the edge of the bed. Abbie met her husband’s questioning eyes unsure how he would react to her omitting this bit of information for so long.  She reached over and pushed back a tress of hair that had fallen out of his ponytail. He caught her hand and kissed it reassuring her of his adoration. She knew then he wouldn’t be angry.

“When I was a little girl, after I saw Moloch in the woods, I started having these dreams. I was in a library with what I now know was a boy. I could never see his face but the way his voice was in those earlier dreams, he was a boy, a very tall one. We would walk and talk together trying to find our way out of this library,” her eyebrows drew together, “that was actually a maze. As I got older every now and then the dreams continued, silent most of the time. Kind of like watching incomplete bits and scrapes of a movie pieced together. When I became a young woman, I dreamt of him, only _he_ had become a man. His voice is yours. I remember hearing it, that’s how I came to realize that you were him.” Ichabod felt the tug of curiosity ebbing away at him. Immediately after she mentioned the library an image flashed through his mind. It was the only dream he could vaguely recall after waking from down in the cave. He’d dreamed he was still a boy just barely a teenager, he sat in a dimly lit library at a desk that seemed much too large for his stature. He was surrounded by books, reading furiously through each one. A girl came into view. She was young, roughly the same age as he was, and looked very much like what he now presumed Abbie looked like at that age.

“There you are”, she said. “Ichabod you must wake soon, the demon comes for the world, he comes for me, Ichabod! She screamed _._ He could still here the echo of her voice when he first woke. It was almost as if he followed it out of the dream.

“Baby,” she gently touched his shoulder. “Are you upset, it wasn’t that I meant to keep it from you.”

“No, my angel.” He said wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest. “Confounded only.” He told her of his dream, all that he remembered, and after a few moments the pair couldn’t really seem to make heads or tails of it.

“Tell me, in the dreams in which I spoke. What did I say?” He questioned. Abbie leaned back enough to look him in the eyes. “I don’t remember the things that we said when we were young, it was more of a sound I recalled you know. When I was older around twenty, you called me your love, and asked me to wait for you…we were…making love.” She said quietly.

Ichabod’s breath caught in the back of his throat. He lowered his face to hers, sealing their lips together. “Of course we were.” He whispered. He gathered her up into his arms unable to quell the note of confusion that spread across his face. It was one thing not knowing the secrets of others, that was expected. But not knowing things about yourself was somewhat unsettling. They needed to find some answers, and he had just the idea of where they should start their search.

 

 

 

 

    

  

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Baby Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the comments, and reviews, I appreciate them! Sorry for the delay, my life is constantly reminding me that I am not as in control of it as I like to think I am. I was only able to cover about half of what I hoped to in this chapter :-(, but I felt that this chapter was necessary, it's kind of flashback heavy/confusing, please bear with me. Hopefully things will start developing more in the next one. Hope you enjoy it. :-)!

Ichabod pulled into the parking ramp a little more than an hour before his first course was set to begin. He normally arrived earlier, but he had spent some time that morning trying, failingly, to contact Bob. He had left a message, only to receive a call from Seamus shortly after, explaining that his grandfather was away on a spiritual journey. He was the only person whom Ichabod thought might be able to shed some light upon he and Abbie’s mysterious dreams, but they might not be able to get in touch with him for months. Ichabod heard the faint buzz of his cellphone just as he placed one foot outside of the driver’s side door. He paused, releasing his messenger bag as soon as he realized that it was a text from Abbie. A deep smile brightened his face as his eyes drifted over her words.

**AM:** miss you already, have a great day baby! :-)

He texted back immediately.

**IC:** My dearest Abigail, my heart beats for the very moment that we can be reunited in our love. My will to face this day is bolstered only by the knowledge that upon it’s close, I shall once again hold you in my arms. I look forward to that time most zealously, and await with great anticipation the evening when you can show me exactly how ardently you have missed me throughout this day. I stand now and forever, your devout, and most adoring husband. –Ichabod Crane.

Abbie sat at her desk blushing as she smiled down at her phone. Her heart beat a little faster as she read the words her husband messaged her. She couldn’t believe that all of this was real, the love, the marriage, any of it, it all felt too good to be true. And then she remembered that it was. That there was a demon seeking to bring forth the apocalypse, and the only thing standing in between it achieving it’s aims were her and Ichabod.   Her phone rang.

“Lieutenant Mills.” She answered.

“So walk me through this one more time, because it was hella early when you called this morning, and I hadn’t even had my coffee. Did I hear you correctly, are you married.” Jenny inquired on the other end of the phone.

“Yes.”

“Like married, married, or…”

“What other kind is there Jenny, I told you about it this morning.” Abbie replied twirling her pen through her fingers.

“But you married _yourselves_?” Jenny questioned.

“Yes, look I will fill you in on all of this, I promise, but I gotta go, I’m working.”

A few hours later, Abbie ventured out of her office in search of some paperwork she’d expected weeks ago. She spotted Judy going through a stack of packages getting them ready for disbursement.

“Hey Judy, anything for me?”

Judy funneled back through her pile of letters. “I believe there is.” She replied, looking up. “You, have three things ac-tual-yoh my goodness. Abbie Mills what is that around your finger? I go on vacation for a week, and come back and you’re off and married!”

Abbie looked down at her finger having nearly forgotten that the band was there. She had been at work for hours, and no one had noticed. She should have known that Judy would be the first person to spot it. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say, after all she _was_ married, what was she going to do lie and say she that wasn’t. She was just about to respond when a few of the officers that where nearby came over after hearing Judy’s exclamation.

Sergeant Davis, who had been casually looking on made his way over to the group. “Did somebody over here say Mills tied the knot? He shouted. Just like that, one of Abbie’s worst nightmares began to unfold. Her co-workers all swarmed and gathered around her as if they didn’t have more important things that they should have been doing.

“Hey you guys hear that, Mills is officially off the market, not that any of you losers would’ve had a shot with her anyway.” Pauly, joked. Only he said it just at the moment that Morales and Jones came over to see what all the fuss was about. An uncomfortable hush fell over the crowd, which seemed to part for Morales like it was all part of some elaborate script. They hadn’t spoken beyond that which was necessary for them to perform their duties at work, and months ago Abbie believed that he’d finally moved past it. But the way he looked at her just then, like she had stabbed him in the back, and twisted the blade, made it clear that he had not.

“It’s really not that big of a deal you guys, people get married every day.” She said trying to break up the silence, and get the team refocused. A voice piped up from behind her, “Hey I didn’t get an invitation. What, you too good for your brothers in blue?”

“Not at all.” Abbie declared. “It was very intimate, no one was there, look guys let’s get back to work, we’re barely into the new year, and this town’s already seen a lot of action. Let’s try to keep our eye on the ball.” Her speech was met with a sea of groans.

“Oh wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” Johnson bellowed in rapid succession. “You not getting out of here that easily, you haven’t even told us who the lucky guy is.”

“That’s right lady, you haven’t.” Judy argued stepping into her path. When Abbie didn’t speak up right away, she and a couple of the other officers got after her. Their voices all spoke out and spilled over one another congruently.

“Well out with it, who is it.”

“Yeah why are you being so secretive, spill it, who’s the lucky guy.”

“I am.” A familiar voice called from the back of the crowd. Low, velvet, English.

“And I do feel lucky, fortunate, blessed, deliriously happy that the f _ormer_ Lieutenant Abigail Mills, bestowed the greatest grace and honor upon me, by becoming my wife.” She whipped around to see none other than her handsome husband making his way through the loosely drawn circle of officers. Her peers broke out in a raucous round of cheers, and whistles, you would have thought the local ball club had just made it into the finals. Ichabod could barely take two steps without receiving a congratulatory pat on the back, but truthfully he could only see one person in the room. Abbie. The discomfort highlighting her face said it all. Her head was slightly bowed, and her arms crossed in front of her holding guard. A public admittance of love, or engaging into conversation about anything pertaining to her private life was the last thing that she wanted to do. Not because she didn’t care about the people she worked with, she did. She fought, and worked beside them day in day out, she trusted them with her life, and expected for them to do the same. In many ways the force had become the family she had always wanted. Even still, her romantic entanglements were something that was off limits. Or at least that had been. She could see the happiness in Ichabod’s face as he approached her, his brows drooped, and his eyes softened while the smallest grin dusted his lips. A moment ago she was petrified, frozen still, and desperate to find an escape. As soon as she saw him looking at her that way, she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere other than where she currently was. She tried biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling like a lovesick idiot, but it didn’t work. His free hand stretched out to clench her waist, his other hand was busy clutching a bag of takeout. She leaned into his chest shielding herself from the ridiculousness surrounding them. Her eyes travelled up to his, as she remembered what he had said that morning.

“Anyone who will listen huh?” She asked, smirking.

“I gave you fair warning.” He smiled, pulling her in for a hug.

A sentimental “Awww,” swept through the crowd.

“Hey how bout a kiss!” Someone yelled.

“Kiss, Kiss, Kiss.” They chanted repetitively. Abbie couldn’t believe her ears, these people were crazy, it wasn’t happening,  

“Absolutely not! This is insane!” She exclaimed covering her eyes. “No!” Luckily for her, Captain Irving came out of his office to ascertain what all of the ruckus was about. As soon as he saw everyone standing around Crane and Abbie he figured it out.

“Okay break it up, break it up. Mills and Crane can I see you in my office.” A low grumble of owws sifted through the crowd. “The rest of you get back to work.” He added loudly.

Abbie had never been so relieved to see Frank in her life. She mouthed thank you to him as soon as she crossed the threshold to his office.

“Don’t mention it.” He said. “Oh and congratulations by the way, Jenny told me this morning about your nuptials. We’re really happy for you guys.” Abbie loved how he spoke for her sister even though she wasn’t there. Almost as if he was carrying a part of her with him.

“Thank you.” The couple chimed.

“So Crane, are you finished for the day, because Mills can have the day off if you two want to get outta here.” He asked leaning against his desk.

“No. Unfortunately not, my earlier session ended nearly an hour and a half hour ago, however I have another course that begins in roughly two hours.” He noted pulling up his wrist to glance at his watch.  

“Oh, so no honeymoon just yet eh. Well I won’t keep you two I can see you brought lunch for your beautiful bride so I’ll leave you to it.” He stated pushing up off of the desk. When the pair started for the door, he stopped them and informed them that they could use his office for lunch.

“Oh Captain you don’t have to do that.” Abbie stated.

“It’s no problem whatsoever, trust me you guys don’t want to go back out there, Judy’s probably going to start asking about kids. No one will bother you in here, so consider it a wedding gift. For you.” He noted giving Abbie a smooch on the cheek. “But you.” He said pointing at Ichabod. “You owe me a beer.” The two men chuckled in shook on it.

“Name the date and time, and I will most heartily oblige.” Ichabod agreed. Irving stopped and turned back just short of reaching the door.

“Uh, I do mean for you guys to just _eat lunch_ you know. Because Jenny came in last night saying something about kitchen tables and broken dishes, and cucumbers and pineapple juice, it all just sounded bizarre.”

“What!?” Abbie exclaimed covering her mouth as it fell open.

“So please,” Frank continued, “I know you’re newlyweds but I’m just asking you to respect my space and not jizz on my desk.”

He could hear Abbie shrieking and laughing before he even finished speaking. “I know this is your office, but get out.” She chuckled, walking behind him to lock the door.

“Cucumbers and pineapple juice.” Ichabod repeated after Irving closed the door. He slipped out of his jacket as he thought back to catching Abbie with one in her mouth, and Jenny purchasing mounds of pineapple juice reportedly for him.

“What is jizz.” He questioned slowly, allowing the word drag through his mouth.

Abbie wrapped her arms around her lanky spouse. “Frank needs Jesus, just ignore him. Totally.”

“What are you not telling me?” He asked inclining an eyebrow. Ichabod sat in a chair and pulled Abbie to his lap. “This is hardly fair, clearly Miss Jenny has shared whatever you two were so secretive about yesterday with Captain Irving, and yet you have left me out of the loop.

“Jenny has a big mouth, and I’m going to have to talk to her about that.” She said placing a kiss on his cheek. When she looked at him she could tell that he really did feel left out, and decided upon clueing him in. She pulled her knee in and twisted in the chair until she was straddling him. Her heels rested upon the steel frame over the casters. It was amazing how instantaneous he responded. How quickly his brows sunk, lips parted, and eyes filled with lust. She could feel him moving, flexing, involuntarily she presumed, between her thighs. She looked him in the eyes and wondered if he could feel the heat that must have been radiating off of her face.

“Jizz is another word for ejaculate.” She said quietly. “I used the cucumbers to practice pleasing you…orally.” She paused, taking a breath as Ichabod wrapped his hands around her bottom, and stretched his legs out trying to make room for his growing length. “And you were given the juice to make your ejaculate taste better.”

His voice was baritone as he spoke. “Why should it matter what it taaastes liiike?” His eyes went dead as he realized her exact meaning.

“Oh.” He gasped.

He gazed at her a brief moment before taking her lips. “My dear sweet wife,” He mumbled between kisses, “What have I ever done to deserve such a treasure.” His tongue sought hers more fervidly as his fingertips shifted the bottom of her tee shirt upward.

“Baby. Baby!” She turned her head only to feel him lean forward and part his lips across her throat. She melted into him, her body transformed into putty bending and sinking into his touch. “Baby, we can’t, we can’t, I’m sorry.” She pulled her shirt down and lowered her head. He placed a soft kiss on the top of it.

“Apple the door has been barred, no one will ever be the wiser.” Ichabod pleaded.

“Sweetie, I work here. We can’t just get it poppin’ in my boss’s office.”

“Get it popping, I shall never cease being amazed and perplexed by the infinite number of phrases your generation uses when referring to copulation. From getting laid and getting lucky, and oh let’s see there is getting some, and getting it on, and now we also have getting it popping. Popping?” He questioned again.

“Please instruct me as to what exactly is…” Before he could finish asking Abbie raised her hips from him arching her back and dropped back down thrusting her hips forward.

Ichabod sucked in a breath through freshly clenched teeth.

“Popping.” They said in unison.

He cleared his throat. “On second thought, I am rather fond of that one.” Ichabod leaned back in the seat trying to tame the desire that was building in him. He glanced down at the stiffness between his legs.

“I didn’t mean to…” Her eye’s fell to his groin, “I’ll sit in the other chair.” Abbie stood to move but Ichabod pulled her back to him.

“You will do nothing of the sort. I will not have my wife denied the comfort she craves because of the carnal desires of her husband.” Honestly Ichabod wasn’t certain how long he would be able to sit this way before his baser desires overtook him, and he was forced to remove her from his lap, but he would hold out for as long as he possibly could. He knotted her in his arms and focused on the reason he’d come to see her.

“I have news—possibly.”

“Oh.” She hummed inquisitively, “What kind of news.”

“This morning I was called into Dean Rathers’ office, where she informed me that the board was hopeful that I would apply for an Associate Professorship position that has recently become available.”

“What?!” Abbie exclaimed as her eyes bugged out of their socket. “Sweetie that’s awesome.”

“Quite, and there is more. I got the distinct impression that my application was nothing more than a formality, we were already discussing compensation before I left her office.”

Abbie could barely contain her excitement, she was so proud of him. “Baby that’s wonderful news, you deserve it, from everything you’ve said your students seem to really be connecting to the material. So what did you say, did you apply, or accept?”

“I informed her that I first needed to consult with you.”

“With me?” She asked raising her hand to her chest.

He reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. “Of course with you, whom else.”

“Baby this is up to you, if you’re happy there, you should take it.” She counseled.

“And what about you Mrs. Crane? Are you happy here? Do you think that you will be happy here after the war? You see, it has been intimated to me that there is another position that they are hoping to groom me for. It is more long term, more permanent. I am not certain whether I should entertain the idea of the position that they have already offered if I am not at all interested in considering the other. At the same time, I know that before the war, your hopes and dreams were leading you in directions outside of Sleepy Hollow.” He brought his hand to her face gently tugging the side of her bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

“I want you to be happy, I want you to have a life you love to live, so this is why I needed to speak with you first.” Abbie leaned forward taking his upper lip between hers. She loved the way he loved her, putting her first before any and everything

“Abbie, Abbie does this mean..”

“—Take the job.” She said returning her mouth to his lips. “I love you, ( _kiss_ ) I can find work ( _kiss_ ) and be happy wherever you are. She leaned back so she could look him in the eyes. “To the ends of the earth, remember, I meant every word.” Her fingers set about the work of loosening his tie as their mouths collided in an explosion of soft kisses.

His hand gently cupped her hips as they slowly begin to undulate on top of him. “Abbie what are we doing?”

Abbie stopped kissing him just long enough to say, “What does it look like? Getting it poppin’ in my boss’s office.

  

Ichabod zipped along the freeway, heading back to the university. Memories of his lunch with his wife played at his spirit. Everything had transpired so quickly unzipping this, slipping out of that. When it was all said and done he’d stood with his shirt unbuttoned and his pants and boxers around his ankles. But he was far greedier, he’d wanted to see her, and every inch he got to view only piqued his desire to see more. Her bra was wrapped around her abdomen, while her panties rested around her thighs. He shook his head remembering the feel of her slickness, and wondered why, at this point he even bothered checking her readiness for him. She was always ready. It was supposed to be a quickie, in and out, but he hadn’t quite figured out how to love her that way. That quickly. He couldn’t stop hearing her tiny whimpers as his tongue and teeth licked and clashed over her belly and thighs. He’d taken his time covering her body in hard kisses and soft bites.  He couldn’t forget the pure taste of her flesh as his tongue oscillated over the little knob at the top of her entrance.   He could still see Irving’s nameplate slipping off of his desk as he lay his overcoat across it. He smiled recalling the way she pushed him backward when he tried to slip between her thighs, remembering the way his pulse raced when she turned and bent over the desk, without his prompting or request, she always knew what she wanted. He could still feel his hardness when he took himself in hand, lifted her hips to him and drove inside of her. The way she jumped when he raised his clammy palm and let it fall upon her plum ass. He knew he shouldn’t have, that there were people just outside of the door, but he couldn’t help it. He knew he shouldn’t have done it the next two times either, but it didn’t stop him. He was haunted by the sound she made when he’d completely entered her, and the elbows that were holding her torso off of the desk gave way, causing her to fall against it. The side of her mouth opened against his coat as she fought to contain her moans. She gripped the edge of the desk just over her head in an attempt to anchor herself to something. She’d told him afterwards that when he made love to her she always felt like she was discovering another part of herself. She was adamant that he was somehow able to touch her soul, and even though she couldn’t quite understand it, she knew that she needed it. That she needed him. He pulled into his parking spot and looked down at his tie, he had put it back on at the precinct for show, so his appearance remained the same, and people wouldn’t have cause to suspect that they were locked in the Captain’s office making love. But they were, and his tie was dented, crumpled, and a little bit damp. The closer they had come to release the more difficult it had become for Abbie to restrain her moans, she did, but he knew she wouldn’t be able to when she came. The joy she felt when she came usurped everything, and her cries always let him know. Realizing that he was deeper than he had ever been, he’d stopped just before they reached oblivion, removed his tie and folded it.

“Open your mouth.” He’d instructed, holding it in front of her. Once her teeth closed around it he pulled her back to him and ground into as deeply as he pleased. She released the moment she felt his lips covering her warm back in tender wet kisses. He’d expected to allow her to finish, but he was lost, seeing her that way, coming as hard and as long as she did. It was a beauty like he had never before witnessed. Even with her biting his tie, he could feel her struggle to keep her moans in check.

“Shhh.” He whispered, shakily.

He quickly removed one of his hands from her hips and wrapped it around her mouth offering another buffer, allowing her to cry out freely without the risk of being heard, and simultaneously allowing him to fuck her as hard, and as passionately as he wanted to. He thought he was going to die as he came. The emotions he was used to releasing orally, became confused and unsure of what they were, or precisely what they should have been doing with themselves. They finally made their way out of him in the form of quiet gasps, jerks, and shivers. He stayed inside of her for a few minutes after the final spasm, holding and kissing her, telling her how much he loved her, before standing upright to rub his fingertips along her back. He looked down at her, rubbing circles over her damp skin. He didn’t want to pull out, she felt so perfect all around him, when he felt his stiffness starting to return he knew that he had to. He slowly begrudgingly pulled away from his greatest comfort, and quickly wrapped her in his arm trying to replace the loss of closeness, and warmth. The couple had managed to dress and put everything back in order just before Irving returned to his office.

“How was lunch?” Irving queried upon enter his office.

“Mouthwatering.” Ichabod boasted staring at his wife. Had they been thinking they would have at least have attempted to hide the food he’d brought. The fact that it was untouched and in the same location as he had first set it, didn’t go unnoticed.

Frank held up the bag of sandwiches. “But you didn’t eat anything.”

“That’s because I forgot to tell him that I was fasting, you know it’s a spiritual thing, and he didn’t want to eat in front of me, he was showing solidarity.” Abbie quickly stated. “So yeah, you’re welcome to the sandwiches, my lunch is over, I’ve got to get back to work.” Abbie felt a little bad, but not that much really. If Frank called her out on it she would not so gently remind him about how he and Jenny had sex in her car. Though she and Ichabod weren’t together then, you would have never known it from the way he looked at her when he found Jennies panties just under the seat. She could still hear his stiff tone.

“Miss Mills, whilst searching for my cellular device I happened upon this garment buried underneath the seat in our motor vehicle. Perhaps the next time you are getting your _hair done,._ ” He stated having the nerve to use air-quotes, “you might remember putting these back on.” He stood there glaring at her all accusatorily as if he’d caught her in some tremendous lie. Abbie was fully prepared to allow him to go on believing just that, at the time she didn’t owe him any explanations. But as luck would have it Jenny came waltzing into the family room at that exact moment.

“Icky what the hell are you doing with my panties.” She said snatching them from his hands. “I’ve been looking all over for these. What kind of pervy shit are you up to?” Abbie died laughing, and in true fashion Jenny referred to him as the panty snatcher for a full two weeks after the incident had occurred.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was a miserably cold winter, but the two of them were none the wiser, they spent their time immersed in one another. Ichabod had moved into Abbie’s bedroom. They’d decided to use her room because it was larger, but they ended up moving Ichabod’s bedroom suit into it. The days seemed to fly by, and soon the frost on the window turned to morning dew, and the once barren branches were covered with leaves. Flowers sprung up in amazing glorious fashion, spreading their petals and sharing their beauty with the world. Things on the war front had quieted substantially, giving them an opportunity to strategize about ridding the world of Moloch. It also gave them time to volunteer at the orphanage and they did so every chance that they got. They routinely acted as chaperones for field trips and outings, stopping in at museums and planetariums. Ichabod was beautiful with the children, all of them, but like Abbie he took a special liking to Delton.

Delton was adorable. The first thing people always seemed to notice about him were his eyes, they were hazel, and seemed to really standout against his dark mocha skin. But not only that, there was something to them. Innocence is commonly seen when looking into the eyes of children, but it was almost as if Delton’s held an extra kindness, an appreciation or reverence for everything they saw. Not to mention that fact that they were surrounded by some of the longest, curliest lashes that Abbie had ever seen. His hair was cut into a fade all around, and graduated to a low standing frohawk on top. He cheesed from ear to ear the day they had taken him to get it cut. Abbie would never forget the happiness in his eyes when he returned his glasses over his angular face to investigate it in the mirror. His closest friend had been placed in a permanent home that day, and she and Ichabod took him out to try to cheer him up. He was eight soon to be nine, but tall for his age. When they were on outings Abbie couldn’t count how many times people asked him if he played basketball after learning how old he was. They always seemed a little disappointed when he said no. As if it were a requirement simply because of his height. Truth be told he never seemed interested in sports at all until Ichabod introduced him to fencing. That’s what gave Ichabod the idea of teaching a beginning fencing course at the orphanage. He was earning far more money than he was as an adjunct but Abbie was still surprised when he told her he planned on purchasing all of the equipment for any of the children who wanted to participate. With Abbie’s help he was able to find some pretty good bargains on all of the gear. In a way, Abbie suspected that Ichabod found some solace in being there for children in a way that he wasn’t able to be there for his own child.

They had spoken some of having children of their own, but it was more a fantasy as they would never consider such a thing while Moloch still roamed free. On one particular occasion, the lay post coitus with limbs half twisted about one another. “Spill it, what are you thinking.” Abbie asked, seeing that Ichabod was deep in thought. He pulled her hand from his chest and kissed it, her diamond rested against his upper lip as he did. She agreed to have him without such finishings, however he noticed that she scarcely took her eyes off of it the night that he gave it to her.

“Promise that you will not run shrieking from the bed if I share it with you.” He stated.

Abbie giggled lazily. “Sweetie it can’t be that bad.”

“I was thinking of…what our children might be like. Specifically wondering had you not taken your…pills, what the child we would have just created would have been like.”

“Wow, umm.” She blustered, unsure how to respond. He tightened his arms around her.

“You gave your word that you would not run.” He reminded her.

“I’m not running baby, but yes, you did catch me a little off guard. How would you want them to be?” She asked.

“Like you. Strong, and brave, and beautiful.” He replied pressing a kiss to her forehead. His hand drifted down to her belly and rested there. She knew that he was only imagining, but she felt that she needed to state the obvious, as well as some of the thoughts she had on parenting that were much less obvious.

‘Ichabod. Moloch.”

“I know.” He said removing his hand from her abdomen.

“And.”

“And?” He repeated turning on his side to see her better.

“We’ve talked about this, I kind of always promised myself that when I had children, I would be in a position to raise them, alone if need be, and I’m not there.”

“And as I’ve stated before I fail to imagine an instance in which you would ever need to raise children by yourself. I am here.”

“I just think when two people have children, it’s really important that both of them have the ability to raise the child on their own, you know, in the event of a disaster.”

“As in what kind of a disaster Apple?”

“Any disaster, like if something happens to me, and I’m killed.”

Ichabod winced. “Do not speak that way, I will not have you giving voice to such thoughts.”

“I need to know that if something did happen to me, you’d be able to raise our children on your own. I need to feel like I could do the same.” She stated.

Ichabod sat up in bed, bracing himself with his elbow. “That is not your concern Abbie, you are frightened of a scenario playing out similar to the one that occurred with your parents. One of us becoming mentally infirm, at least apparently, and the other one, leaving them for another lover, and our children being left in flux.”

“Stranger things have happened.” She said. He leaned over her caressing her cheek with his thumb.

“As I said once before not that, not you and I, not ever.” He wrapped his arms around her and fell back to the bed. “Our children shall enjoy the presence of both of their parents, always.” He added whispering.

Abbie snuggled closer to her husband, resting her head in the crux of his neck and chest. “These children you speak of, exactly how many are you talking about.”

“Oh at least five.” He stated smiling broadly.

Abbie leaned back raising her eyes to his. “Five, like as in five the _number_? Like as in five little human beings, that we will be responsible for keeping alive, each of them God willing, bearing ten fingers and toes. That’s like a hundred digits that we’ll be responsible for.” She laughed. “How about two.”

“Four.” He bargained.

“Three.” She countered.

He arched an eyebrow. “Three and a half.”

“How do you suppose we have three and a half kids?” Abbie giggled. “What are we going to half raise one of them?”

“Four. Two boys and two girls, that way they shall always have someone to confide in. To take up arms with, in the event of trouble. I see what you and Miss Jenny have, it is my greatest hope that our children will have that as well.” Abbie brought her hand to his arm gently rubbing smooth fluid strokes across the surface. She could see a certain sadness in his eyes, one that came every now and then when he thought of memories oceans away, and ships long drifted from harbor.

“Do you miss him?” She asked quietly.

“How could I after all that has happened.”

“He was your friend.” Abbie reasoned.

“He is a monster.”

“He is.” She agreed. “But he was also the closest thing you ever had to a brother.” She added. Ichabod exhaled deeply.

“I carry it still. My betrayal. I so wish that I would have handled it differently. Everything was always clear cut, and easily discernable for Abraham. He decided to join the revolution with so little deliberance. So little regard for how such actions would weigh upon his family, upon his family name.

“Hey don’t beat yourself up for seeing gray when everyone else sees black and white. The fact that you gave thought to it, you did consider how it would affect your family, and acted anyhow speaks to your courage. You should be proud of that.”

“I still feel…”

“Had you not come forward and told him of the feelings that Katrina had for you, the feelings you had for each other, you would have been condemning him to a loveless, hollow marriage. You did the right thing. You didn’t know that she was his intended when you first fell for her. It’s okay. And it’s okay to miss Abraham, as long as you have no hesitations about killing the headless horseman.

“I do not.” Ichabod sat up in bed. “I am clear on our purpose. Still I cannot seem to shake the feeling that I have had a hand in every life that he has taken. We hurt him, Katrina and I, that is precisely why he turned to darkness.”

Abbie curled her fingers around his. “In law there are such things as superseding events. An incident occurs. Party A is responsible for the initial act leading to the incident, but Party B’s actions so overwhelm the initial act that they relieve Party A of any responsibility. I.e. selling your soul because your best friend steals your girl would definitely qualify.”  

“I did not steal her, still all the same I do not think there shall ever be a time when I have forgiven myself completely for what transpired. We were…as brothers. So close in fact that even knowing how severely he was hurt, I still could not fathom how he could possibly want to slay me over the affection of a woman. And then I met you.” Abbie turned her doe shaped eyes up to his. “And I understood perfectly.”

Abbie sat up pulling her knees to her chest. “Baby.” She whispered, looking upon him with unadulterated tenderness. She lifted her hand to his face.

“It’s true.” He responded. “Perhaps seeing things in black and white is not such a bad thing. You do that for me. You make everything clear. I too would lose all sense of reason if someone tried to take you from me. I understand now how it happened.” Ichabod leaned forward wrapping his arms around Abbie, knees and all. She stretched her neck upward to meet his kiss.

“Mmm.” She hummed, pulling back. “We have to get ready to go, we’re going to be late.”

“And what if it is my only wish to stay exactly where I am, and love my wife?” He said indiscriminately planting kisses around her face.

“We can’t. The barbeque. We invited Jenny and Irving, how’s it going to look if we don’t show up when we’ve invited people.” Ichabod stopped kissing her long enough to dispel a frustrated breath.

“Oh yes, the barbeque. The summertime practice of gathering amongst ones friends and families, to rejoice in celebration of the season by searing animal flesh upon an open flame.” Abbie started to stand and head to the shower, but he caught her by the arm.

“Baby really, we can’t be late.” Abbie restated noticing a flash of deviance brewing in his eyes. She watched as his light denim eyes drifted to her bust. She knew immediately what he aimed to do. He had thoroughly learned every detail and facet of her body, what she liked, loved, craved, and couldn’t resist. He knew that if he could manage to get her nipple into his mouth she would become like putty in his hands and bend to his every desire. Abbie veered at him wearily. She’d lost count of how many mornings she was forced to leap from the bed with her hands tightly covering her breasts.

A smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I simply require a hug. A parting gift, if I may.” Abbie crossed her arms over her boobs.

“Yeah right. Don’t try to act all sweet and innocent, I’ve seen this play before, I know how it ends.” She said.

“You misunderstand. My only wish is to hold my wife in my arms once more before she leaves the warmth of our bed.” He insisted causing Abbie to laugh out loud.

“I can’t believe that I’m even listening to this right now. One hug right?”

“A mere hug.” He confirmed.

“Okay.” She decided hesitantly reaching her arms around him.

“Is it too much to trouble you for a tiny kiss?” Seeing how well he’d behaved with the hug, Abbie decided a little kiss wouldn’t be out of the question. She planted her lips upon his kissing him softly. So softly in fact that she barely noticed his lips slipping down her neck, and nibbling at her collar until they were wrapped around her nipple. He encircled her fully in his arms.

“You promised.” Abbie gasped, grabbing at his shoulders ready to push him off of her. His wet tongue flickered across the peak of her mound and she caved before she ever got the chance. Her limp body lay back against the mattress. Ichabod kept his mouth playing at her nipples as he slowly slid his fingers between her thighs. She twisted and turned into his touch.

He veered back, looking down on her with all the cockiness of a first round draft pick. “We can make love Apple, but we will arrive late. The choice is yours. Do you wish me to stop?” He brought his mouth over to her ear. “Or would you like me to beat it up again?” He asked in the faintest wisp of a whisper.

She hated. His fucking. Guts. He was arrogant, egotistical, and far too overconfident. But she loved him more than anything, and he knew how to play her body like a fiddle.

“I want you.” She moaned.

“Want me to what?” He asked, his tone ripe with conceit. Abbie cursed herself for having shown him the movie _Baby Boy._ She vowed to find it, and break it in half so that he was never able to watch it again. He didn’t need any help being cocky. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled her face to within a few inches from his.

“I want you to beat it up again.”

 

* * *

 

They were nearly a half an hour late to the barbeque, and according to the navigation, still ten minutes away. Usually it wouldn’t have been a problem but they were in charge of bringing the hamburger, and hotdog buns. Ichabod’s right hand reached over resting on her thigh as she drove. Abbie looked over at him remembering the first time she’d tried to get him to wear swim trunks and flip flops.

“I will not wear them, I have no desire to go about the outdoors with my upper thighs exposed.” He stated looking into the mirror. “And these shoes provide absolutely no protection for my feet. What, may I ask, purpose do they serve at all?” It took some time, but after exchanging his trunks for longer ones, he got on board. All and all it went over a whole lot better than the first time he saw Abbie in a bikini. He was a little disturbed…if being a little disturbed were the equivalent of completely losing your shit. Ironically, the jealousies that haunted him before they were together rarely bothered him anymore. Back then a good portion of those feelings stemmed from the fact that his feelings had been so severely repressed. Other men courting and attempting to woo Abbie, when he was barred from doing so ate away at him. But once he had her, when she became his, he doubted that there could ever be another capable of stealing her away. He was confident in their relationship, in their love. Besides he knew that people would look at her, she was, after all, outstandingly beautiful, so naturally she stood out everywhere they travelled. He had witnessed what felt like tons of men, as well as a few women checking her out. But every now and then there were some who held their gaze too long, and it angered him to no end.    

He’d looked over at his wife who was busy modeling in front of their full length bedroom mirror. “Are you certain that you prefer that particular suit? I rather enjoyed the previous one. He stated with a hint of nervousness present in his tone.

Abbie giggled turning about to inspect her suit from a side angle. “Baby, _that_ was a cover-up, something I wear before or after I enter the water, not while I’m in it.” She answered still turning in the mirror.            

Seeing that his subtly voiced reservations about her wearing such clothing, were falling upon deaf ears, he took it to the extreme.

“I forbid it.” He’d stated. She turned from her reflection laughing because she was certain he was joking. She never forgot the anger in the pit of her stomach when she realized he wasn’t, and before all was said and done, neither did he. She glared at him from the corner of her eye.

“Forbid?” She questioned.

”Precisely forbid, as in, I, Ichabod Crane, your husband am prohibiting you, Abigail Crane, from leaving our home dressed in such a manner.”  

“You do realize that I, Abigail Crane, am a grown ass woman and you, Ichabod Crane have about a snowball’s chance in hell of telling me what I can, and cannot wear.”

It was their first fight as husband and wife, and neither of them were willing to back down from their positions. It went on for what felt like hours spilling over into other areas including the time they had a pregnancy scare. Even though Abbie seemed to be the only one that was actually scared. Throughout her life her cycle was the epitome of consistency. It came every twenty-nine days to the day, without fail. So when she reached day thirty-five and it still hadn’t began she started coming undone, recalling that one night that she missed her pill. Ichabod, on the other hand was overjoyed, but subdued showing his emotions in an effort to support his wife. On the seventh day Abbie burst out of the bathroom shrieking with joy, and jumped into her husband’s arms. When he inquired as to why she was so exceedingly jovial she informed him that her period had finally arrived. As soon as she saw the disappointment in his eyes she realized what she’d failed to see all along. He’d wanted her to be pregnant. A few months later she would understand how much so when she found a gift bag tucked away in the back of the closet of the spare bedroom. Inside there was a little stuffed teddy bear, with a yellow ribbon tied around it’s neck. She put it back, and never mentioned it.

In the end, she felt some type of way about him hoping that she was pregnant during these times, and he felt some type of way because she did not. Their fight raged on to the point that both of them were tired of talking, and still no one conceded. It didn’t end until an exasperated Abbie sat at the edge of the bed questioning whether or not they’d been fooling themselves. She wondered aloud whether it was feasible that they could make a relationship work given all of their differences.

“What are you saying?” He asked, suddenly awake, bright eyed, and engaged.

“I’m saying that I love you, and I want you to live your happiest life. If there is ever a time when…when you feel like I can’t help you achieve that then you need to let me know because…” Abbie paused stilling her voice and fighting back tears before she spoke again.

“Because I love you enough that I want you to be happy even if I can’t be a part of it.” Ichabod looked into her tearful eyes, and couldn’t remember what they’d been arguing about. He rushed over to her and took her in his arms.

“Apple,” he said softly,   “I am so terribly sorry. “Forgive me, I yield without condition. I am a fool, and a most earnest failure if I have managed for even one moment to allow you to believe that the happiness in my life could ever be increased by the lack of your presence. You _are_ my happiness. I do not wish to argue with you about what clothing you choose to adorn your body.” Ichabod had made humongous strides in becoming a man of the times, however there were still some instances where he struggled a bit. For instance the bathing suits he recalled looked as full length gowns, complete with weights along the hem to keep them from rising up.

“Baby I guess I just don’t understand, you’ve seen women in bathing suits before.”

“Yes I have, and this should not be taken as an excuse for my behavior, but they were not you. My wife. My beautiful wife…who glides into the room fully clothed and catches every eye.”

“Baby I catch _your_ eye, not every eye. Besides I couldn’t not want you if I tried, you never need to feel jealous.”

“I am not jealous, I trust you completely. However _I am_ greedy, and stingy.” He informed her gently nipping at her neck. “I have been most reluctant to allow other men to see you in this way.” He ran his hand along her side gently easing her down onto the bed, slipping her bikini straps over her shoulder. He kissed her here, and there, feathery and light. “To see what is mine. I did not wish to share any parts of you, you are…mine. He crawled over her kissing his way down her frame. “But you are thoroughly correct in that I am the only one who shares your bed, who touches you…so let them look.” His fingers hooked around the straps to her bottoms and slid them down as his lips dusted her abdomen. “In fact, let them eat their hearts out, while I eat…” His words ceased as his mouth overtook her sweet spot.  Needless to say Abbie’s itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, yellow un-polka-dotted bikini never did make an appearance at the beach that day, and neither did she.  

 

“Hey look who’s here everybody.” Perry called as Abbie and Ichabod made their way through the cookout.

“Mr. Ichabod, Miss. Abbie!” Bren’s daughter yelled, abandoning her hula hoop to come over and greet them.

“Do you like my tiara, my daddy says I’m a princess!” She exclaimed.

Ichabod stooped down. “Your father is a wise man, you are every bit the princess.”

“I love your tiara Hannah, and your hair is beautiful, did your mommy do your braids?”

“Uh huh. She did them last night.” The small child brought her hands to rest on her locks. “It took a _very_ long time.” She reflected sadly.

Bren’s wife Kayley, approached them from behind. “That’s only because you couldn’t sit still for longer than five seconds, busybody.” She said tickling her daughter. Hannah giggled tucking her chin into her chest while trying to grab her mother’s hand. “Now go inside and tell your brother and cousin to turn off their game, and come out to play.”

“Yes mam.” Hannah laughed, running off.

Abbie turned to Kahley. “She is adorable, and I mean like can you have one for me that’s just like her, adorable.”  

Kahley laughed. “Girl please, you can have _that_ one. Do you want me to throw in her brother too?”

Ichabod stood trying hard not to read too much into Abbie’s statement. He knew that she was simply joking, but he found happiness in merely listening to her speak of a future that included children. At that moment he felt a little guilty for coming to the barbeque instead of focusing his attention on Moloch. The sooner he was eliminated, the faster they could get on with their lives. He embraced Kayley, ghosting a kiss to her cheek, “Please forgive our tardiness. It was entirely her fault.” He joked pointing at his wife.

“What?!” Abbie objected. “How can you put this on me?” She asked cracking a smile.

Ichabod wrapped is arm around her chuckling at how bothered she’d become. “It appears my presence is requested elsewhere.” He stated gazing off at his friends waving him over to the barbeque grill. He looked down at her.

“You’ll be alright?” He asked.

“Of course.” She answered staring up at him so sweetly that it took him a moment to remember what he’d asked her about.

Kayley laughed softly watching the lovesick couple, she turned to Ichabod. “Go on, she’ll be fine. Drunk, but fine.” He gave his wife a final kiss and squeeze before going over to join them.

“Seriously I am sorry we were late, it couldn’t be helped.”

Kayley smirked at her newlywed friend. “Oh I bet it couldn’t. I remember those days. That’s how Ian got here, and Hannah was on his heels.”

“I don’t think we’re ready for all that just yet.” She stated staring off after Ichabod. Kayley’s incredulous tone brought her back to their conversation.

“And why not?”

“Umm,” It was weird establishing and maintaining friendships when so much of who they were had to remain hidden. At times Abbie felt like a fraud, but absolutely no good could come from their friends knowing who they were, or what they did. “Oh, you know, we’re just getting accustomed to our lives together, we want to wait a little while.” She answered.

“Hmm.” Kayley hummed in that tone she used when she thought Abbie wasn’t being completely forthright. She knew that there were things she and Ichabod kept secret, little ways in which they switched the topic of conversation when things became too close. There was one occasion at dinner when the pair had left abruptly only two minutes into their meal. When Bren questioned what happened, and inquired as to whether or not he and Kayley could be of assistance, the pair stated they couldn’t. To further explain, Ichabod informed them that there was an “immediate situation begging their attention at work, rather home.” He quickly corrected noticing the beginning of confusion spreading across Bren’s face as he and Ichabod both worked at the same place. Abbie immediately hopped in. “Home. Homework, actually. I forgot we promised Delton we would help him with his homework, he has a very important project due tomorrow.” Kayley just smiled, she and her husband had met Delton when they accompanied Abbie and Ichabod on a field trip with the children. She knew they were very active there, especially with Delton, but she could tell their story was a façade. However she also knew they were good people, so she overlooked the little inconsistences surrounding their activities. Every since she was young, Kayley had an ability to read people with very little effort.

Abbie looked around, taking in the party. “Nice turn out.” She said waving at Jenny, Irving, and Macey, who were already having fun in the pool.

The party was full of familiar faces, most of them colleagues of Ichabod’s. Bren had first thought to have a small gathering for the purpose of helping Matt get better acquainted with Ellie, a new associate professor who had hired into the English Department, but later he decided upon expanding it to include everyone. Matt had been starry eyed since the interviewing process, in fact had her credentials not ranked her so superiorly over her counterparts, he would have felt a little guilty for recommending her for the position. As it turned out however, all three members of the hiring committee thought she was the best fit. Abbie had become friendly with her at the end of the school year party. She had just moved to Sleepy Hollow last year, and hired in roughly around the same time as Ichabod.

It was a lovely day for a barbeque, the temperature was a little on the warm side early but by evening, it cooled to perfect weather. There was no humidity and the sun was just making its way behind the clouds lighting up the sky in spectacular fashion. The air was light, and felt clean and refreshing as it almost had the effect of making Abbie feel weightless, but upon closer inspection she realized Ichabod was the true cause of her loss of gravity. They’d swam, ate, and visited with all of the other guests, but as the evening drew to a close and the crowd thinned out, they found themselves being pulled away from one another. Abbie sat up on the deck chatting with Jenny, and Ellie, meanwhile Ichabod had stolen off with the fellas to have a cigar. Three or four other partygoers were seated in various areas around the pool and yard.

“So.” She said directing her attention to Jenny. “How’s it going?” She asked.

“Fine.” Jenny replied tersely, forcing a smile.

“Okay, but if you want to talk about it.” Abbie offered.

Irving’s ex-wife was in town visiting friends, and came to pick up Macey in order to save Frank the trouble of bringing her home. Jenny said her goodbye’s to Macey out back in order to avoid the oddness of saying them in front of her mother. He’d been out front talking with her for the last thirty minutes. Jenny, much like her sister, wasn’t a jealous woman. But there was something about the entire situation that left her feeling insecure. She knew Frank loved her, he showed her in every way possible, but she also knew that he still held love for his ex-wife, she was Macey’s mother after all. She had only encountered Cynthia on a few occasions, and each time it was the most tense, awkward feeling she could remember. Cynthia looked at Frank with a gaze that made her feel like she knew him in a way that she never had, and it frightened her. What if he wasn’t the happiest that he’d ever been right now, what if he was happier then? What if deep down he longed to recapture that feeling? She loved him, but she couldn’t help feeling a little silly for allowing herself to fall for him, without knowing for certain if their relationship would be enough. She looked up to find him opening the screen to the deck, and returning to the backyard. He came over to where she was seated and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you.” He said. She smiled turning her head to face him.

“For what?” She asked.

“Everything. Yesterday taking Macey for a manicure, and a pedicure, and today was so much fun. She had a wonderful time, I feel like dad of the year right now.”

“That’s because you are.” She responded. “I had a blast too, I’m happy she enjoyed it.” Jenny said smiling. “So is everything good, you were gone a while.”

“Yeah I know. Cynthia had some ideas about various camps she was thinking of sending Macey to this summer, so we talked a bit about that, and she was telling me about some of the things that were happening in her life.” Jenny didn’t respond verbally, but nodded her head, her eyes indicating a bit of worry.

“You alright?” He asked noticing her demeanor.

“Yeah fine.” She said. Frank glanced across the table, and could tell that Abbie and Ellie were engaged in conversation, but still didn’t want to risk saying anything too loudly. He knew first hand that Abbie was adept to speaking while listening to multiple conversations at once. He stooped down.

“I love you.” Jenny heard him speaking, but didn’t acknowledge it. She wasn’t a fool, she could tell that his ex wanted him back. It was bullshit, and unfair, because for months Frank did everything he could to save their marriage, but the moment he moved on with someone else, it seemed all was forgiven and she wanted him. What Jenny needed to know was whether he wanted her as well.

“Jenny.” He stated.

“I know you do. I love you too.” She answered.

“Well that’s good to know because I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. Do you want to go?” He asked. She looked over at him, and reached her hand out to grab his. “No. I’m fine, and I don’t know what I’d do without you either.”   Ichabod and Bren called his name beckoning him to come to the garage with them. He stood, holding his finger up requesting a moment. He turned back to Jenny.

“Go on, I’m fine, go have fun.” She stated. He grabbed her head dropping a few kisses to her lips. “You sure?” He checked again.

“We’re fine. Go.” She stated smiling.

Kayley had gone in to pack a bag for her kids who were sleeping over at her sister’s. She came out to the deck carrying a tray with Crown Royal, Apple Pucker, and Cranberry Juice.

“Okay, now that all of the kiddies are gone, let’s get this party started.” She chimed.

“Oh no!” Abbie called out sitting forward. “Uh un, I don’t think we should try these again. The last time we drank them, I woke up on my stairs.” Abbie and Kayley fell into laughter.

Abbie turned to her sister. “Thanks a lot for leaving me there by the way.”

“Hey I tried to get you up, you told me you were “cooo somfortable”, besides I had to drive Kayley home, and by the time I got back you were knocked out.” Jenny teased. “I swear your husband goes out of town for one weekend and you get all the way live.”

“Well hell I’m game, I can’t remember the last time I really let loose.” Ellie said holding out her glass.

“See I knew there was something I liked about her.” Kayley announced filling her cup. Just as Abbie had predicted, forty minutes later the ladies were still throwing them back like nobody’s business.

“Oh my God, these go down way too easy.” Ellie commented looking at her glass. “Hey you guy’s.” She added with a slightly detectable looseness in her speech. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time, thanks for inviting me. I don’t really have any friends, or know anyone in town, so it’s awesome meeting new people.”

“Aww sweetie you’re so welcome, anytime. I wasn’t aware that you didn’t know anyone, I was under the impression that you and Rebecca were close.” Kayley stated setting her glass down.

“Hey, at one point, I was as well.” Ellie laughed taking her fingers through her dark ashy blonde hair.

“Uh oh. Sounds like it’s tea time.” Kayley smirked dinging the side of her glass with a spoon.

“Kayley!” Abbie exclaimed.

“What, I didn’t put the kettle on, Ellie put the kettle on.” She clarified.

“It’s alright,” Ellie stated finishing her drink. “She was actually the first person I met here, but I realized quite a while back that she’s one of those girls who is always in competition with you.”

“She’s a one-upper.” Kayley opined.

“Exactly.” Ellie stated pointing at Kayley.

“Mm hmm, I could tell that about her.” She replied.

Abbie gasped laughing at Kayley’s reaction. She found it funny that your friends were always harder on the people who wronged you than you were. Not that Rebecca had overtly wronged her, but Abbie could sense that she had an attraction to Ichabod. She blew it off, and overlooked it because she was secure in their relationship. Him entertaining the attention of another woman was not something that concerned her. But Kayley, and even Jenny had pointed out little things she had done just today that were overstepping boundaries. In honesty she had probably spent more time in Ichabod’s face than Abbie had. Taking him an unsolicited beer when they first arrived. He accepted it, then immediately searched the party until his eyes found Abbie, and excused himself to come give her a hug and a kiss. Earlier when Abbie was inside helping Kayley, Jenny came in stating that Rebecca asked him to put suntan lotion on her shoulders, but Perry offered to do it instead.

“She must be drunk Jenny, I’m not going to worry about it. What did Ichabod say?” Abbie had asked.

“He didn’t say anything, he just looked at her like she was crazy, that’s when Perry offered.” Jenny stated clearly irritated. She knew that her sister was an officer sworn to uphold the law, and would only use violence as a last resort. “Listen, say the word and I’m on her ass.”

“No-n-no, Jenny.” Jenny had witnessed the expression that painted Abbie’s face a thousand times. The one she used when she wanted her to stand down and allow her to handle things. In truth Abbie was bothered by it, but she wanted to give Ichabod a chance to handle it so she had gone about her business as usual.   

Ellie leaned forward refilling her cup. “It’s okay. I just trusted her, and I shouldn’t have. I was dating this guy I met at the library, nothing serious, I’d only been seeing him a little over a month, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like him. I thought that we might have had potential to go somewhere. Then one night we were having dinner at my place, and Becky popped up, which normally would have been fine, but I had mentioned to her that I was cooking dinner for him that night. So she kind of crashed our date, and did a lot of things to draw attention to herself all night. Long story short, at the end of the night she left, and oddly Josh left a little bit after her. I cleaned up, and got in the bed, but something kept gnawing away at me, this little suspicion in the back of my mind that I couldn’t keep quiet. I got up, I got dressed, and drove over to Becky’s house and…Josh’s car was there.”

There wasn’t a closed mouth at the table. No one could believe what they heard, even Kayley, who had maintained that Rebecca was a sidity flake from day one, was shocked. Abbie was the first to break the silence.

She reached over and touched Ellie’s forearm. “I am so sorry, what a pair of assholes. I can’t even imagine, so what did you do?”

“I wanted to flatten all of the tires on their cars, but I didn’t. I left a note on her windshield stating that I hoped he was worth it, and never spoke to either of them again.”

“Classy, you got rid of two assholes in one fell swoop.” Abbie said raising her glass.

“That was classy, but I think I would have gone ahead and flattened the tires, busted out the windows, hell depending on how I was feeling I might have put a rag in their gas tank and lit it on fire, cause that was some utter bullshit.” Jenny stated.

“It was my own fault for trusting her, especially after I found out what she did to Peters.”

“—No,” Abbie interrupted shaking her head, “it was her fault for abusing your trust.”

“Peters?” Kayley questioned. “As in former Associate Professor of History Peters?”

“That’s the one.” Ellie answered.

“What did she do to him?” Abbie asked drawing her brows together.

“Well they were having an affair.” Ellie admitted.

Kayley whistled and poured another round of drinks. “And the tea is served.” She said in her best old lady, English accent.

The girls pulled themselves together long enough to hear the rest of Ellie’s story.

“She was obsessed with getting him to leave his wife, but he was never going to leave her. When she kept pressuring him, he broke things off, and started seeing someone else.”

“The freshman.” Abbie said slowly piecing the story together.

“Exactly. And Becky was so unhinged when she found out, I think it was more her pride than anything else. So she left an anonymous tip for his wife.”

“Whaaaatt?! The women all screamed in disbelief.

“Oh yeah, his wife didn’t just happen to find him with that girl, she knew they would be there, compliments of Rebecca Murray.” Ellie informed them.

“No effing way,” Abbie said shaking her head. “I swear that school has more drama then daytime TV.” The women sat for a while exchanging stories they’d collected of love gone bad, and infidelity, retracting all names of course. Telling tale after tale determining who’d heard the most bizarre account of infidelity.  

“All these stories are so depressing.” Jenny said frowning. “It’s like why even bother if everyone just ends up splitting up, or unhappy in the end.”

Abbie wrapped her arm around her sister and pulled her face to hers. “Hope.” She smiled, far too intoxicated to be anything but jolly. “The possibility of being loved, _really_ loved.” She added closing her eyes. “And the experience and freedom of loving fully, even if it doesn’t last, even if it’s just for a time.”

Jenny looked at her sister. “Bells.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re drunk.” She stated laughing.

“So are you.” Abbie responded polishing off her drink.

“No, I’m fucking wasted, I was drunk two drinks ago.” Jenny stated. The women laughed and talked a little more before deciding to go to the garage, and drop in on the guys. They were nearly off the porch when a familiar tune caught Abbie’s ear. _“Get up, get up, get up, get up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, Aw baby now let’s get down tonight_.”

“Wait a minute, you _have_ to turn this up.” Abbie said as soon as she heard the words.

“I love this song.” Ellie chimed in. Kaylie cranked the radio and before they knew it, the four women were up having an impromptu sing-a-long to Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing. They stood on the deck loosely clutching their glasses while swaying and snapping their fingers to the beat. Their voices rang out unabashedly, twining around Marvin’s vocals, and spreading through the night air.

The voices were heard as far away as the garage, causing the guys to walk back toward the house. They approached the deck surprised to find the women dancing and singing their hearts out.

_“Baby, I can’t hold it much longer, it’s getting stronger and stronger. And when I get that feeling I need sexual healing.”_ They all sang in chorus.

Ichabod’s eyes shone with amazement as he watched his wife’s hips twirl from side to side. How he loved it when she sang, especially when she sang the way she was now, so freely, like no one else was listening. The other women had stopped as they noticed the audience approaching, but Abbie hadn’t noticed anything at all. She sang with her eyes closed. Ichabod held his index finger to his lips, signaling to the ladies not to alert Abbie of his presence.

“ _Sexual healing is something that’s good for me, Well it’s so good for me, and it’s so good to me, my baby. Whoa oh oh oh oh oh-ewhew. Come take control, just grab a hold._ ” She crooned.

Abbie was a drink and a half past her limit. If she hadn’t been, perhaps she wouldn’t have become so completely abandon, and started singing like she was alone in her shower. Or perhaps she would have at least realized that everyone else had stopped. She definitely would have seen her husband coming before he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her mid sway. Her yelp was already halfway out of her mouth before she realized it was Ichabod holding her.” He kept his arms around her, holding her and nuzzling her cheek, while slowly walking her over to the edge of the deck where they could be somewhat alone.   She turned her head to the side, and let her it fall back to her shoulders until she was looking into his eyes.

“Hi baby.” Her tone was light and quiet.

“Hello Apple.” He grinned, looking into her eyes. “I’ve missed you.” He said softly.

“Prove it.” She challenged. She should have known better. There were many things she could challenge him about, but proving his affection for her wasn’t one of them.

His mouth enveloped her lips, toggling between one and the other, slipping his tongue between them sucking them as if he thought they held the meaning of life. Finally needing air Abbie lowered her head. “Okay, I believe you.” She said searching for breath. He pushed her curly locks to the side, and began laying soft kisses along the back of her neck.”

“I beg that you not allow a mere kiss to suffice. Permit me to take you home, and prove it to you in a more convincing manner.” He spoke quietly.

Abbie moaned quietly sinking back into her husband, taking stock of how strong he felt behind her. She felt like nothing could ever harm her when she was locked in his embrace. She looked out at the full luminous moon and the millions of seemingly tiny stars speckling the night sky, and wondered if there would ever be a time that she felt happier than she felt at that very moment. Perhaps it was the war that made her appreciate every single second of peace she felt. The understanding that at any given moment it could all be washed away like loose footprints in sunken sand. Ichabod’s fingers gripped around the inside of her thigh, and pulled her back against him, letting her feel how much he wanted to get her home.    

“I’ll get our things.” She breathed.

“No, do not trouble yourself my love, I will retrieve our belongings, whilst you bid farewell to our friends.” She turned around, perching on top of her tip toes tasting his lips once again. Ichabod ever mindful of the eyes behind them gently tugged at her elbows, slowly pulling her back to the ground.

“At home.” He whispered. He lost himself with her. Whenever he started touching her in such a manner he found it nearly impossible to stop. Especially tonight, as he could taste the sweet whiskey on her lips, and knew he was in for a treat. She didn’t drink often but when she did, she became totally uninhibited in the bedroom which made him all the more eager to get her home.

Abbie spent some time thanking Kayley and Bren for a lovely day, and kissing Jenny and Irving goodbye as they appeared to be on their way out as well. She decided against disturbing Ellie and Matt, as they seemed to be deep in conversation. She opted instead to have a seat on the steps next to Perry while she waited for Ichabod. Abbie noticed that he’d been giving her the cold shoulder for some time, and though she wasn’t positive what it was in regard to, she had an idea. Like clockwork, as soon as he looked back, and saw that it was her approaching the steps he stood, and made way to leave the area. She didn’t allow him to sneak away this time though. Abbie placed her hand on his shoulder stopping him from rising.  

“Have a seat P.” She said trying not to sound too much like a cop. Perry resumed sitting on the steps.”

“Uhh, am I under arrest?” He kidded nervously.

“Should you be?” Abbie countered bending to pick up a package that fell from his pocket when he stood. “You dropped this pack of,” she looked down, and read the package aloud, “EZ Wider rolling paper. I’m sure this is for….”

“Medicinal purposes?” He stated as if he was asking a question instead of giving an answer.

Abbie bucked her eyes, focusing on him.

“Glaucoma, it runs in the family, I’ve had it since I was six….teeeen. I—wait, I can explain”

“—Perry.” Abbie said calmly. “Stop talking. I was going to say that I’m sure this is for tobacco.” She said returning the papers to him. After all these years on the force, she was still amazed at how many people tried to talk themselves into jail.

“It is, that’s what I was going to tell you.” He said with complete seriousness, as if she hadn’t been sitting there listening to him babble on.

“So how’s it going?” Abbie asked.

He glanced in her direction, and immediately turned his eyes back to the beer in his hands. “It’s going good, nice weather, cold beer, I can’t complain.”

“Hmm. I know what you mean.” Abbie stated resting peacefully against the side of the stair rail.

“P look at me.” Abbie said leaning forward to find his eyes. “If I come over to a group of people, that you happen to be in, you disappear as soon as I arrive. Is there anything you want to say to me?” She asked.

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lied.

“Cut the crap Perry. For instance, I know that you were the one who told Ichabod about me working at the orphanage, and correspondingly about my working so closely with Nick. I want you to know that I don’t feel any type of way about that. He and I weren’t together, but I understand why you mentioned it to him, and it’s no big deal.”

“Oh yeah, he told you about that huh?”

“Not so much, I kind of put two and two together.” Abbie replied. “For the record I don’t know what Ichabod, or even Nick told you at the time, but I was single. I wasn’t trying to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes.”

“Hmmpf!” Perry laughed raising his beer to his lips.

Abbie laughed. “What’s so funny about that?” She asked, growing intrigued.

Perry shook his head smiling. “Just you and Ichabod’s warped sense of what it is to be single. I’m single, Matt over there, he’s single. When Ichabod introduced you to us, he said you were single, and you were _not_ single.”

Abbie peered at Perry from the side trying to gauge what he was talking about. “Umm, actually I was.”

“Really?” He asked turning to face her.

“Yeah really,” she nodded. “What would make you think otherwise?”

“Well for starters single girls don’t normally have _boyfriends_ who physically attack you when you make a comment about how pretty they are.”

Abbie leaned her head against the railing and closed her eyes. “He didn’t.” She said upon opening them.

“Oh yes he did. Twice.” Perry added holding up two fingers.

“Just for saying that you thought I was pretty, that doesn’t sound like Ichabod.”

Perry frowned up and immediately mimicked her voice. “That doesn’t sound like Ichabod. To hell it doesn’t. With all due respect, your husband is out of his fucking mind, like here’s Ichabod’s mind,” he said pointing to a stone on the ground, “He’s way the fuck over there.” He pointing to the tree line encasing the yard. Abbie couldn’t help but laugh even as she tried to defend Ichabod.

“He is not.” She gasped trying to catch her breath. Abbie knew her baby, and he was a little crazy but he wasn’t _that_ crazy. “You must have done or said something more.”

“Okay, listen.” Perry said thinking of how he could let Abbie know that he may have crossed the line, without stating specifically what he said. “I might have gone a little further… I might have said a little more, but none of that changes the fact that your husband, my friend, is nuttier than a fucking Planter’s factory.” Perry squinted his eyes as if he were deep in thought, and stroked his throat with his hand. “And he’s so much _stronger_ than he looks.”

“So all this time, I’ve been thinking you’ve been standoffish because you thought I tried to play Ichabod, and really it’s because,” “He choked me.” Perry said nodding. Abbie’s eyes flew wide. Abbie knew that Ichabod would do anything to protect her, or defend her honor, but Perry must have been doing the most to provoke that kind of a reaction out of him. He wasn’t quick to anger. She decided it was best if she didn’t know the specifics of what he said.

“I think you’re safe to start speaking to me, I bet he was just having a crappy day, he gets pulled into his own head sometimes. Speaking of which I wonder what’s keeping him.” She said standing up and dusting off her legs. “Oh and P, thanks for saying I was pretty.

Perry looked up at her. “Whatever you do don’t tell him I said you were pretty. Don’t tell him I said anything flattering about you at all. In fact, we never spoke, you never sat next to me, I _never_ looked at you.”

Abbie laughed trying to get over the look on Perry’s face. He was dead serious. She didn’t know exactly what transpired, but whatever it was it instilled a fear in him.  

“Good night Perry.” She said heading up the steps. All they had inside was a few towels, and they should have already been stuffed into their beach bag. Abbie headed towards Kayley’s sanctuary where she’d left their things. The door was closed but she could hear muffled voices coming through it. One of them she knew well, as it belonged to Ichabod. It took a moment for her to realize that the other one belonged to Rebecca. She cracked the door.

“Miss Murray _please_ gather hold of yourself. As I have told you once before, and as you well know, I am a married man.”

“Ichabod first of all let’s be adults about this, a little birdy told me about your marriage, it isn’t even legally binding. C’mon I notice all the little extra things you do for me.”

Her attempt to move closer prompted Ichabod to take a step back. The first time she made an advance toward him was the day he stopped into her office to discuss his editorial. She was crying when he entered, and seeing her in distress he forgot to clarify immediately what was to be the nature of their meeting. He offered her his handkerchief and stood offering kind remarks and words of comfort. He sat next to her and listened to her speak for a few moments about a failed relationship. He could only reason that his words of encouragement were somehow misconstrued when she quite suddenly leaned forward and attempted to kiss him. He was taken completely off guard, and quickly explained to her then that she was mistaken, and that he was very much in love with his wife. At the time, she seemed to understand. He didn’t want to hold her actions against her, or cause her to feel awkward due to a temporary lapse in judgment so he treated her as he always had, which was precisely the way he treated every woman he worked with. He had reasoned that she was merely distraught over a spoiled romance, but he now realized that he was misguided. Rebecca kept moving toward him nearly backing him up against the wall.

“Miss Murray, I am afraid that you are not quite well.” Ichabod stated.

“Maybe I’m not. Maybe I need a little sexual healing of my own.” She said closing in.

_Whaaat_. Abbie thought fuming. _This bitch is doing the absolute most. Jesus I need like a dozen angels right now, please encamp them around me, because the one’s I have are either sleep or on some other stuff, because this chick is about to DIIIEE. How am I supposed to stop the apocalypse from a prison cell Jesus?_

“I can tell you feel the same, I notice the way you always hold the door for me, and the way you pulled my seat out that day the entire department went to lunch. And the first time I told you how I felt about you, the day you gave me your handkerchief…I still have it. I know you were afraid then, but you don’t have to be, Abbie never has to know about us.”  

Abbie was on fire, her palms shook so badly, she knotted them into fists in an attempt to subdue them. What Rebecca didn’t understand was that Ichabod was so much more to Abbie than her husband. He was her sun, and after showering beneath his rays taught her what it truly meant to be in bloom, she had no intentions of ever going back. He was her sanity, and at times he felt like the very air she needed to breathe. She couldn’t remember how many days she’d come home from work, and immediately found peace the moment she saw the front door, simply because she knew that he was on the other side of it. And if she could just make it to the other side of the door, he would replenish her, and fill her up with enough life to go back out into the world and do what she needed to do the next day. No Rebecca couldn’t have understood the degree to which she was fucking with Abbie’s life, but she was. Abbie stood in the doorway simultaneously listening to and praying for Rebecca. She needed every ounce of the Lord’s grace to not stomp a mud-hole in this broad, and at the moment He must have been busy because her inward prayers for strength and grace went unanswered.

“I am afraid you are quite confused. I am in love with my _wife_ , and I have no desire to take up any sort of action with you. I offered you my handkerchief as I would have offered it to any lady I happened upon in tears. I pulled out your seat, and opened the door for you the same way I have for every other woman I encounter, that is merely a function of my upbringing, and certainly not a reflection of some secret desire you mistakenly believe that I hold for you. I desire but one woman, and you” His lips turned up in disgust “are not her. Further if you cannot find the grace, or at least decency to respect me, my wife, and our relationship, then there is nothing more that we shall ever have to say to one another.” Abbie pushed the door open.

“Abbie.” Ichabod called, a mixture of fear and relief covering his face. She was smiling, but because he knew her so well he could see the tension laying upon her features. She slowly stepped into the room, causing Rebecca to bear a fake plastic smile.

“Hey Abbie, are you two shoving off. We’ll all have to do this again sometime, it was a blast.” She smiled.

Abbie was nearly enraged, and fought against her instinct to lay hands on Rebecca.   She diverted her attention to Ichabod. “I see you found our bag.” She said nodding toward the beach tote at his side.

Ichabod scooped up the bag, grabbed Abbie’s hand, and started out of the door. He didn’t want to stay around Miss Murray a second longer than he had to, and he definitely didn’t want to expose Abbie to her lunacy. He knew his wife, and could tell she had an inkling about what had transpired, but had she fully known of Rebecca’s advances, nothing good could have come from it. On the way to the car Abbie turned back stating that she’d forgotten something and would be back in a few.

“No baby, go on to the car, I’ll just be a minute.” She assured him when Ichabod offered to go back inside with her.

Abbie popped back through the hallway trotting quickly toward the sanctuary. As she’d imagined Rebecca was still there gathering up her things. Abbie stepped inside of the room, and closed the door behind her.

“Abbie.” Rebecca chirped. “Did you forget something, I’m always forgetting stuff, my mom used to say”

“—Really Bitch?”

“Excuse me.”

Abbie took a few steps closer. “You can drop the act. I stood right outside of that door listening to every single word you said to _myyy_ husband.

Rebecca started backing away. “I don’t…know what you’re…talking about, Ichabod and I”

“—It sounds more to me like _you_ don’t know what _you’re_ talking about because there is no Ichabod and you. And since you claim not to know what I’m talking about allow me to clarify. You stood in the very spot that you’re standing right now trying to fuck my husband, and the _only_ thing that kept me from coming through that door and giving you the ass whoopin’ that WE BOTH know you deserve, was my desire to sit back, and watch you fail.”

Abbie crossed her arms giggling softly. “And you did it so well. Kudos.” Abbie looked her up and down before adding, “I guess you’ve had a lot of practice.” She heard the sound of the doorknob opening and knew already that it was Ichabod bounding through the door.

“Apple.” He said breathlessly. He knew the moment she came in earlier that she had heard more than she let on, he felt foolish for allowing her to come back inside without him.

“I’m coming baby.” She called still staring at Rebecca. “You have a blessed evening Becky, God was certainly with you today.” Abbie turned and strolled over to her husband, wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a sensuous kiss.”

Ichabod struggled to keep his eyes on the road on the way home. He had two beers roughly eight hours ago, and was completely sober, but Abbie proved to be a monumental distraction. How could he remain focused on the street before him when his wife’s thighs were spilling all over the front seat. She noticed his attention and seductively bit her bottom lip, shifting and crossing her legs to the other side. Ichabod lifted his arm to press the garage door opener clipped to his visor before the tires even hit the driveway. A trail of various clothing articles led from the door to the foyer where he stood at the base of the steps lifting her naked form. He was halfway up the stairs when her hand reached into his trunks and tugged at his hardened length. He nearly lost his balance, but quickly threw his arm out to catch the rail, and keep them from falling.

“Now, now, now,” She chanted softly. “I need it right now.” She pleaded biting at his lips. Ichabod clutched her tightly and willed himself to take a few more enormous strides. He collapsed the moment they reached the top of the landing. He fell to his back, gasping through chills as her wet mouth took him in. She was amazing. She was such a devoted student, studying his reaction to every caress of her fingers, curl of her tongue, and bob and swivel of her head until she knew how to please him perfectly. She brought her head up.

“How do you want it baby? She asked taking his lips. “You can get it any way you want it.” She confessed.

“I want it every way.” He answered nibbling her nipples.  

“You’re so greedy.” Abbie moaned.

“Only for you Apple, only for you.”

Ichabod woke a few hours later, still at the top of the stairs. He sighed at the pull on his heart when he gazed at his wife’s sleeping figure. He smiled thinking of how he had asked for it every which way, but barely lasted through one way. She did this thing with her hips, and made this little weepy noise that drained every ounce of life from him, and cum for that matter. He stood lifting her from the floor and carrying her to their bed. She spoke in a quiet groggy tone.

“I love you baby.”

“And I love you, my heart.” He replied cuddling next to her, and pulling their blanket around them.

“Promise.” She asked.

“Forever and always.” He said laying a kiss on her cheek.

“I mean it, you better not ever give another woman what you give to me, I don’t think I could take it.”  She wasn’t lying.  The thought of him putting the bangs to another woman, the way he did to her, fucked with every part of her Christianity. She reached her hand back gently pressing his shaft.

“Mine.”

He smiled reaching down to press her hand more firmly into his member. “Always,” he pledged. Ichabod coiled his arms around his wife and left kisses on her shoulder before resting against the pillow.  

“Apple,” He said quietly. “Earlier when I came in and saw you talking to Miss Murray,”

“—Mmm, hmm.”

“I had to repress myself from blowing raspberries at her and stating, “Na naaa, na-na naa, you did not get this daddy dick.” Every single limb on Abbie’s body went weak, and tears rolled from her eyes, as she tried to tame her laughter.

“That’s it.” She yelled as soon as she caught her breath. “That movie is gone!” She laughed pretending like she was leaving the bed right then to destroy it. Ichabod grabbed her and pulled her back to bed.

“Baby you didn’t even say it right it’s, “Na naaa, na-na naa, you ain’t get no daddy dick.” She chanted in a teasing tone.

“Yes, I realize that, however it sounds quite ridiculous using two negatives in one sentence. My way is vastly superior, it should have said.

“You did not get _any_ daddy dick.” He argued. Abbie’s tears returned, hearing her exceedingly proper husband speak that way was too much, especially with his accent.

Abbie tried desperately to control her laughter, no one brought it out of her the way he did. “You have to stop, I just can’t.” She laughed holding her belly. After the laughter subsided, she snuggled in under him.

“I love you.” She turned over her shoulder adding, “I love it.”

“I love you, and I am most pleased to know that you love it, because for all of eternity, this daddy dick belongs to Abbie. ” She didn’t laugh this time. She could tell from the tone in his voice that he wasn’t joking.

 

 

 


	17. Who's To Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading, and kudos, and comments, you guys are awesome! I hope you enjoy the chapter it's long because I couldn't find a way to break it up that I was satisfied with. Please forgive any grammatical errors, I did proofread, I will try to fix them within the next day.

 

 

Abbie stepped into the large brick building, quickly making her way through the long familiar hallways. On one side of the main hallway the walls were lined with pictures of children who had been placed in permanent homes. Their accompanying letter often detailing exciting information about their new lives. Some of them listing the names of the new siblings and pets, others wrote excitedly about their new schools, or hobbies that kept them busy. All of them discussing their elation at finding a place to fit in, somewhere that made them feel like they belonged. The other side of the hallway was decorated with photos and information about children still seeking permanent homes. That’s the reason Abbie was here. Well at least the reason she was here a full twenty minutes early that is. Today was Delton’s birthday, and she had already planned upon picking him up for a day out when one of the sisters called to ask if she would mind coming in a bit early to discuss a few things.

“Miss Mill’s” sister Corra called from the small room in the back of the front office. Abbie marched through the office waving hello to the other two sisters seated inside.

“Why hello Mrs. Crane, where is that darling husband of yours, I seem to recall Delton saying that the both of you were taking him to a game today.

Abbie paused briefly in front of the back room. “Afternoon Sister Wilson, he’s in a meeting, he’s actually going to be meeting us there.” She smiled.

“Well Delton sure can’t stop talking about it, I hope you guys have a great time.” She gushed.

Abbie stepped into the room and closed the door behind her at the request of Sister Corra.

“Mam?” Abbie said standing in front of her desk. Sister Corra was about the sweetest soul Abbie had ever met, but she’d never let anyone know it. There was stern, and then there was Sister Corra.

“I suppose it is Mrs. Crane now, isn’t it? She asked looking up from her desk. It wasn’t really a question, it was stated snidely only to prove a point. She was funny that way, at times wielding subtle digs, and others stating things so bluntly you just knew she had watermelon sized balls hidden under that robe. When Abbie had come in to update her volunteer authorization, her and Sister Corra had a rather contentious discussion about the sanctity of marriage. The usually cool calm and collected Lieutenant came away wondering if it would be completely wrong to put an old lady in a headlock.

“Have a seat.” She offered motioning to a chair. She rifled through a few papers in the top of her desk, before pulling out a large rolled sheet of construction paper and handing it to Abbie.

“We asked the children to update their story. They were instructed to write about the things they enjoy doing, the things they’re good at, and the sort of family they would like to be a part of. This is Delton’s, complete with a drawing.” The sister sat back folding her hands across her desk waiting for Abbie to look over the paper. The smell of it worked its way through Abbie’s senses and seemed to instantly transport her back to grade school. There was something about the smell of construction paper, it was one of those things that didn’t seem to change. Her eyes drifted over the drawing first, a tall bearded man with long hair, not unlike Ichabod, a small woman holding up a badge, and Delton in the middle of them holding their hands. Under the things he enjoyed doing he’d listed a host of activities that they’d all done together. Fencing, swimming at the beach, fishing, taking in a ball game. His article had been the perfect description of Ichabod and Abbie as well, including his stating that he would like a father who is nice and teaches him things, and a mother who is kind, watches out for him, and helps him feel better when he is hurt. Ichabod was a teacher, he never stopped teaching, and Delton hung on his every word, soaking them up, and holding to them as if they were gospel. Abbie was a protector by nature and she was constantly worrying over him, making sure he was bundled up through the winter, telling him not to go out too far into the water now that summer had begun.

“He’s quite an artist.” Abbie said handing the paper back to the sister.   “What do you want me to say? We spend a lot of time with him, naturally he’s going to form an attachment to us.”

After the sister remained silent Abbie continued. “This program was essentially your idea Sister Corra, you said that you wanted the children to have an influence like the Big Brother/Big Sister Program, Ichabod and I are trying to further that.”

The old woman wrinkled her nose, and looked down on Abbie through wire rimmed glasses. “I am well aware Abbie that this was my idea, still the child is turning nine years old today, and with each passing day his chances of finding a permanent home diminish. During our open house there were four couples interested in speaking with Delton, as you are aware he has a certain spark, a kindness that draws people to him. However,” she hunched forward over the desk, “he seemed to sabotage each visit. He has it in his head that you and your…husband will eventually adopt him.”

“Wait a minute, did he say that.” Abbie asked tilting her head forward.

“He didn’t have to.” The woman answered holding up the construction paper. “Have you any idea how hard we work to find loving homes for the children, I don’t think he truly appreciates the opportunities that he’s passing up. He listens to you. You have to talk to him, and make him understand that we need him to cooperate with visiting families from here on out. Fortunately, there is one family that still seems very interested in visiting with him.”

“Well what are they like? Do they live in Sleepy Hollow, because I think I should meet them, you know Delton is such a kind spirit, he can’t just be placed with any family Sister Corra.”

“I wouldn’t dream of placing him with _any_ family Abigail.” The sister pushed her seat away from her desk. “Further I will not have you meddling in these affairs, your investigation of the Morris family was legally overreaching, and wholly inappropriate.”

Abbie’s voice raised without her even realizing. “Inappropriate?! Wholly Inappropriate?! Well at the end of the day _you_ all almost placed him into a home where there was a substance abuse problem, so I can live with inappropriate and, even wholly inappropriate, and legally overreaching so long as he’s safe.”

“Watch your tone young lady, do not sass me. When the children speak to me in that tone I make them write one hundred sentences on the chalk board. Don’t think you’re too old for discipline.” She warned motioning to the chalkboard stationed at their left.

Abbie’s eyes squished up, Sister Corra’s meds were all kinds of fucked up if she thought she was writing on a chalkboard.

“Mam, I meant no disrespect, but I’m not just going to sit around and allow you to put him in a home that’s not conducive to his wellbeing and healthy development. So if there is a family interested in adopting him, they had better be prepared to speak with me first.” Abbie wasn’t finished but she stopped speaking when she noticed the smug look on Sister Corra’s face.

“I know what you’re doing.” Abbie said sitting back shaking her head. “Sister Corra”.

“You love him. He thinks the absolute world of you and your husband.”

Abbie couldn’t help but laugh. “My husband that just a half a year ago you sat right where you’re sitting now and told me wasn’t _really_ my husband—is that the husband you’re talking about?”

“I had to be sure.” She said standing and walking around to the front of the desk.

“Sure of what?” Abbie asked.

“This day in age, single people adopt children all of the time, and it works out well, when you married in the manner in which you did, and so hastily I might add, I worried that perhaps this was you being you, and that you had no intention of fully committing. Children need stability, whether being placed in a single, or two parent home.  So when you explained the nature of your marriage I thought perhaps that you were just trying to find a way to get one foot out of the door, but now I see that I was wrong. After speaking with you that day, if I wouldn’t have known better I would’ve thought you wanted to do bodily harm.” Abbie smiled gently itching the side of her head. She was perceptive, because nun or no she almost got the business that day.

“You and Ichabod have a great deal of love to share. Why not share it with Delton. You’re here all the time. If he does something good, he can’t wait to tell you, if he does something bad, he doesn’t want anyone to tell Ichabod.” She laughed removing her glasses. “And the most telling fact is when he’s sick, he only wants you. Just think about it.”

A stoic gaze overtook Abbie’s face. “I have. I mean, I do…all the time, but.” Abbie sighed dispelling a large breath. “There are some things that we need to take care of, Ichabod and I, and while I want to say we are going to take care of those things and then we’ll be in the clear to adopt Delton, I can’t put a time stamp on them. I don’t know how long it could take to resolve these issues, I just know that we can’t open our home to him while they are ongoing. I would be honored to raise him, but my main priority is his wellbeing and his happiness, and we cannot provide the best and safest environment for him right now.”

“I understand. But keep in mind Abbie, that there will never be a perfect time to have children. I do hope that you, and Ichabod are able to resolve whatever issues are causing you trouble. And as always, I’ll be praying for you both.”

Abbie thanked the sister and started walking from her office before turning back. Before she knew it her arms were wrapped around the prudish woman. “I wasn’t gonna hit you by the way.” She pulled back and smiled. “I wanted to, but I wouldn’t.” Abbie joked.

“Oh the fire in your eyes could have set the entire town ablaze.” She replied, before taking a more serious tone. “Delton would be lucky to have someone in his corner who fights for those she loves the way that you do.”

When Abbie finally reached the residential area, she found Delton reading quietly with his back to the door. His knapsack rested on the bed to his left, the head of a Tyrannosaurus Rex that Ichabod had purchased him, stuck out of the top of it.

“So I hear someone’s celebrated a birthday today, have you seen him?” She asked. Delton’s feet scurried across the floor in record time.

“Miss Abbie!” He yelled excitedly, throwing his arms around her.

“Happy Birthday! We are going to have the BEST day ever today, are you ready for this?”

He was a quiet boy, and rarely got too worked up, but she could see the excitement brimming beneath his eyes.  

“I’ve been ready all day! I woke up when it was still dark outside, but Sister Sarah said it was still too early.” Just as soon as the words were out of his mouth she noticed his face fell as he looked around. “I thought Mr. I was coming as well.”

“He is sweetie, _he_ ” she said standing upright, “is going to meet us at the ballpark. So grab your bag and jacket and we’ll hit the road.”

Ichabod sat in Perry’s living room watching him and his roommate, a TA in the computer science department dance and shout while jumping around.

“How are you being so calm about all of this, we are rich as fuck. I’m quitting my job. Actually I’m not, I’m just never fucking going back there. Perry said running circles around the living room.

“Perry, do you not think that perhaps you are getting a little carried away. You can hardly seek to sustain yourself off of our earnings. After all we invested twenty thousand dollars into the application, me putting forth fifteen and you Ethan a total of five. The company is seeking to purchase the application for thirty, which is not a meager gain by any means, however it hardly warrants or affords itself to an action as severe as resigning from one’s post. Further as the principal partner in our LLC., I recommend that we reinvest the ten thousand dollars.

“Ten thousand dollars?! What are you talking about Ichabod?” Perry asked as he and Ethan looked at Ichabod completely stumped.

“You stated as soon as I arrived that a company wanted to purchase the app we developed for thirty thousand dollars. Must I do the math for you?” Ichabod said grabbing his coat jacket from the back of his chair and slinging it over his forearm.

“Ichabod, Ethan and I had been working on the algorithm for two years before you completed it.”

Ethan cut in, pushing his thick framed glasses further up his long narrow nose. “—Which was awesome by the way I’ve never seen anyone move through something like that as rapidly as you, you never had to go back and cross reference.”

“—He has an eidetic memory dipshit, and don’t interrupt me again, it’s beside the point.” Perry turned his attention back to Crane. “Do you think we put all of that effort in for ten grand? I said thirty but I never said thousand.” Perry stating grinning. Ichabod furrowed his brow.

“But…but you could not possibly mean…” Ichabod’s mouth fell open looking at Perry grinning and nodding like a newborn fool. “You cannot possibly…”

“—Thirty million dollars. I’m shaking. Can you tell!? I’m shaking right now.” Perry yelled. Ichabod sat back down in his chair, and rested his hands on top of his head. “They offered to pay us thirty million dollars in procurement of a game, an instrument used to fill pastime, a pleasant distraction…all the world has gone mad.”

“Cheer up Ichabod. You made fifteen million dollars today.” Perry said patting him on the shoulder. Ichabod’s ears felt fuzzy, he sat forward resting his elbows on his knees and pulled at the tips of his earlobes. He could hear a ringing noise, and for a moment he was almost certain that it was coming from his ears, but quickly discovered it was Perry’s phone.

“Hello.” He heard Perry answer trying to condense his giddiness. “No, dad…I know you’re busy, but I didn’t want to leave a message, I have something to tell you, and I wanted to say it to you directly.” A wide grin covered every inch of Perry’s face. “Fuck you!” He yelled into the phone. “That’s it.” Perry hung up the phone and threw his arms up in victory. Ichabod’s forehead wrinkled and his mouth dropped open as he watched Perry and Ethan exchange high fives.  

The road in front of Ichabod all but disappeared as he raced toward the ballpark. He and Abbie were forthright about everything, and made it a point not to keep things from one another. He had been investing in developing this application with Perry and Ethan since he received his first pay. He thought perhaps he would earn a little extra here and there to supplant his income. When his income increased he simply kept investing because he’d actually come to rather enjoy creating the app, and Perry and Ethan were so excited about it. He thought that Abbie would never notice the minimal amount of income he would make, so he would never need to explain where it came from. But this she would notice, and he had to figure out a way to tell her. He stood at the gates holding the present they’d purchased for Delton waiting for them to join him. Within minutes he saw her serpentine form sauntering toward him, a smile stole across his face, he’d recognize that walk anywhere. He found himself mesmerized at how she managed to make a t-shirt and blue jeans the sexiest attire he’d ever known. He laughed seeing Delton bouncing along beside her, standing nearly as tall as she did. As soon as they were close enough to see him Delton broke out into a full sprint, and didn’t stop until his arms were around him. Ichabod reached down pulling the boy into his side while still holding his gift in his other arm.

“Happy Birthday! Tell me do you feel any older?”

Delton bent his head up to him. “No.” He answered giggling.

“You certainly look taller.” Ichabod joked placing a hand on the boys head. “How have the last few days gone? Did you have a chance to read any of the books we picked up last weekend?” Delton was extremely bright, and Ichabod always worried that his mental stimulation was inadequate for a child of his mental aptitude.

“Yes sir.” The boy nodded.

“Hey.” Abbie smiled as soon as she reached the pair. Ichabod pulled her into a light embrace, before handing her Delton’s present. The trio made their way to a picnic table where the birthday boy opened his present before entering the gates.   They had purchased him a baseball glove as he seemed to gain more interest in the sport earlier in the spring. He loved it, his little fingers flicked his cap up on his head in order to get a better look at it. He turned it around in his hands smiling wider and wider as he examined it.

“Thank you, thank you.” He said, hugging them both for his gift. They made their way to the stands and sat to enjoy the game. A little while later when Ichabod had gone to the restroom, Abbie took the opportunity to talk to him a bit about what she and Sister Corra had discussed.

“D, you have to try to let the families who come to visit get to know you. I heard what you did with the Turner’s, and from what I heard they seemed like nice people. Delton barely took his eyes off the game.

“They had six dogs, three cats, two hamsters, a pig, and a parrot.”

“Well you love animals, so that sounds great.” Abbie stated.

“They live in a two bedroom apartment, where am I going to fit in?” Abbie giggled, but actually lauded his good perception. “Two bedroom huh?” she asked.

“Apart-ment.” He replied. “They didn’t have a basement or anything, my allergies would never stop bothering me.”

“Well what about the Conley’s?”

“They were vegan.” He said taking a bite of his hotdog.

“Okay, okay…the Palmers, now I know they had to have been a nice couple because Sister Sarah said they were the salt of the earth.

“They were super nice, I like them a lot.”

“But.” She asked, turning to face him.

“But there son might quite possibly be a psychopath. He was out back trying to set fires during most of the visit. When he got tired of that he tried throwing rocks at a bird’s nest.”

“Whoa.” Abbie said making a mental note to inform the sisters about the boy’s behavior.

“Delton I saw the picture you drew yesterday.”

“—You know sometimes I’m so quiet that Sister Sarah forgets that I’m even there. And I’m really good at helping out. Sister Corra always says what a wonderful job I do when I help her clean up. I don’t need much, really.”

Abbie touched the boys elbow causing him to look up at her.“—Hey you deserve _everything_. You are the smartest, kindest, most thoughtful little boy I have ever met, and you deserve a family that can give you the absolute best life.   You shouldn’t have to be worry about being super quiet, or if you’re a burden, you just have to be yourself.” Abbie took him by the shoulders to make sure he heard her. “You are so special to me, and Mr. I, this world is 100 percent a better place because you’re in it, my life is better because you’re in it. But, Mr. I and I are not able….to care for a child right now…we can’t adopt you, but you have to know if we were….or if we are ever so lucky as to have a little boy, we would want him to be exactly like you. But as for now, I need you to start giving some of these families a fair shake. Do you think you can do that for me?”

He nodded as Abbie wrapped her arm around his shoulder, shaking her head in disbelief. “Nine, I can’t believe it, next year you’ll be double digits.”

They filled the day with all the fun they could possibly squeeze in, laser tag, an after dinner stroll along the beach, where Abbie attempted to show Delton how to fly one of her old stunt kites. They ended up star gazing from the backyard by nights end. After growing tired of looking through the telescope the trio lay out in the grass, and just looked up at the sky. Abbie lifted her head from her blanket on the, and pushed herself up enjoying the feel of the cool grass beneath her fingers. It was a beautiful clear night, and it seemed all the stars sparkled a little brighter than normal. She looked at Delton position on his blanket a few feet in front of her and realized he’d fallen to sleep.  

“It’s time to head back. We told Sister Corra one extra hour, it’s almost up.” Abbie said quietly looking over at Ichabod.

“Yes.” He answered keeping his eyes fixed upon the night sky.

“What are you thinking?” She asked sensing he was deep in thought. Ichabod pulled himself up, resting his palms over his knees. His eye fell to the sleeping boy in front of them, and Abbie knew immediately the thoughts that plagued his mind.

“If but for one thing, we could offer him a wonderful life. He deserves it, we…deserve it.” He added turning to face her. “He brings such joy to our home, and I have grown…I’ve grown fond of him. I want him to have a family that loves and cares for him, but I also dread the thought of losing touch with him completely, or another making decisions that will impact his life.”

“Me too.” Abbie whispered. “But Ichabod there’s nothing we can do until…”

Abbie didn’t need to say it, he already knew. And further the mere mention of Moloch these days sent him into a funk. It was odd. For so long it seemed as though Moloch pursued them, but lately as the pair began to understand their powers more and more, it seemed almost as if they were the ones in pursuit, while Moloch and his disciples stayed one step ahead of them at all times.

“I know.” He said trying to withhold the feeling of defeat from his voice. A pang of discomfort ate away at him, filling him with an uneasiness that was rapidly turning to panic. He shouldn’t be doing this, wasting time. He hadn’t time for going to a ball game, playing laser tag, or laying beneath the stars, he had a job to do. Just today he had learned he made more money than he had ever imagined having, but it was worthless to him if it couldn’t help to protect the people he cared about. Ichabod stood and stepped over to the sleeping child’s body, and scooped him up into his arms as Abbie gathered up their blankets. They were quiet during the car ride they to the orphanage.   Abbie glanced over at her husband a couple of times and could tell that it was best to let him be alone in his own thoughts for a while. He would let her in the moment that he was able, and she would wait patiently until he did. Sister Sarah greeted them warmly as they made their way through the dimly lit corridor. Abbie stopped off in the main office to sign Delton back in while Ichabod continued on carrying him to his room. Abbie trailed behind them and made it to the room just in time to see Ichabod pulling the covers up over his small body. Even deep in sleep, the boy’s fingers were tightly locked around the baseball glove that they had given him for his birthday. Abbie looked on from the doorway as Ichabod reached down and gently removed it from his grip, setting it on the desk just next to his bed. She hated this feeling she felt. Though she was excited that a family was interested in offering a home to Delton, she was riddled with worry that somehow he wouldn’t be cared for properly. He had a sensitivity to him that some might not take notice of, or worse see as weakness, but he wasn’t weak. There was another side to him that could be raised if provoked, he was staunchly protective of people and things that he loved, and she wanted him to be protected and remain little for as long as possible. It amazed her how much he was like Ichabod. She knew much he looked up to him, and sought to do things like him, but it was still quite uncanny. They had taught him so much, but it seemed that everything they taught him, paled in comparison to what they had learned in return. Her ideas about both of them being able to raise a child on their own before starting a family hadn’t changed, she still felt that way. Only now she thought that maybe she was ready after all, in fact she knew she could do it, Delton had shown her that.

Abbie’ stared into Ichabod’s eyes as he turned to make his way from the room. She knew that he was doing everything he could, and she hated to see how hard he was being on himself. She had lost count of how many times she had to gently remind him that they were in this together, he wasn’t solely responsible for their inability to kill Moloch. Still she could tell that he felt that way. When they arrived back home Abbie headed up to bed, while Ichabod stated that he had some work to do in the den. She knew before she even told him that she was heading up he would respond that way. He pressed his lips to hers and promised her he would be up in a little while.

“Okay, not too late Baby.” She said, giving his side a gentle squeeze.

 

A little over three hours later, Ichabod climbed the stairs and headed to the shower to wash off his day. He gingerly dawdled through the bedroom careful not to disturb Abbie. The warm water cascaded over his skin helping to unload his troubles, as he tried to refocus his energy for the day ahead. The day had been so busy he hadn't even had a chance to mention the details surrounding the app to Abbie, though it was probably for the better. At times she made jokes about the life and position he came from.  He wondered how she would think of him. He hoped that she wouldn't think he was a worshipper of coin, but honestly he breathed a little easier knowing that he had it, not for him of course, but for her. It felt good knowing that if she needed something, he could provide it for her. He repositioned the showerhead trying to rinse away some of the shampoo that had slipped into his eyes.  There was so much good he could do with the funds, some of it he would give to the orphanage. His biggest concern was that she would think that he was pursuing the comforts afforded him in his former life, when in truth, he was far happier with the life he had now. Still it was a mad world, not many people knew how much so better then him, and money right or wrong afforded them certain protections. For months he had been investing a portion of his income into stocks he had studied, and hoped might prove lucrative, but as of late his earnings from them had been very meager.

Ichabod stepped from the shower toweling himself dry. He stepped into the center of the room trying to temper the subtle tingle under his ribs when he looked at his wife's half naked figure. He couldn't help it his body was fully aware that it had been three full days since he had had any sexual contact with her, and another three days before that since they'd made love. The week had been far too demanding and his body, heart and soul craved her touch. He felt the weight of his member increase as he recalled their last encounter. He was reading at the kitchen table enjoying a cool drink, while she was standing on top of the countertop taking a rag to the kitchen cabinets. He glanced up at the sound of her humming and quickly found himself overcome with desire. He didn’t remember walking over to her but, somehow he wound up behind her skimming his fingertips up her legs and resting his head against her warm body. In what seemed like mere seconds he was pulling down her stretchy cotton shorts and kissing and biting away at the flesh beneath them. She dropped the rag, and he picked her up. He carried her over to the island and laid her body down, gazing at her like he was starving and she was a five course meal. He afforded her enough space to pull his shirt off, before he fought his way back to her lips. His fingers dug into her skin pushing her thighs in opposite directions as his head dove in between them. Her hands rubbed and tugged at the tresses covering his head, but he sucked and moaned against her flesh until he felt her coming under the lay of his tongue. He’d planned on making her come again, as he brought his head wiping his mouth and beard with his hand. But she had plans of her own. “Apple...Treasure, you must cease your…OH! You must stop.” He begged.

But she didn't stop. Her movements became more emphatic, her fingers coiled around his length stroking him as she sucked him faster, and more purposefully than ever before. His entire body tensed just before he exploded, feeling himself seeping inside of her warm mouth while she moaned and hummed over his hard flesh. She let most of it fall from her mouth, but he didn’t care, he was left sunken in the chair oblivious and wholly indifferent to any and everything that wasn’t her. She was a goddess. He looked down at her in awe, fighting and struggling to regain a normal breathing pattern. She removed him from her mouth looking up, wiping the last of his sweetness away from her lip. They were silent for a while, him in the chair, and her still on her knees, gazing up at him with all the love she had. Almost as if she wanted him to know, to understand how far his love had taken her. She was doing things she had never done, she was willing to do so much more. He bent forward and his lips immediately fell to her forehead, raining kisses upon her in high praise of her ministrations. “I love you, I love you.” He'd whispered incessantly. He didn’t get the chance to show her how much that day as a call from Captain Irving pulled them away from the house, and it seemed as if they’d been running ever since.

It had been nearly a week since he'd felt the walls inside of her.   He threw his towel in the hamper adjusting himself to quell the ache he felt.   The window was open to allow a cool breeze to pass through their room. They had central air but it was still early summer and they had not yet committed to running it full time.  He looked down on her, taking notice that there was more of her body on top of the blanket than under it. Her tank top was halfway up her belly, and her panties were fighting a losing battle to cover her spectacular arse. He felt the weight of his cock increase again. _Ichabod! Allow her rest, she has been burning the candle at both ends._ He thought trying to get a hold of himself.

He crawled into bed next to her and softly brushed a few hairs from her face watching as they fell against her satin pillow. His arms gathered her to him, and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, as every burden he felt melted away. She was his heaven. He couldn’t help but smile at the sounds of her sighs and gentle coos, as she stirred and found her way back to a peaceful sleep. Ichabod fought to control his loins, and force his mind to summon other thoughts, but all roads seemed to lead directly back to the woman in his arms. Everything he did or sought to do was for her. _Do not wake her._ He reminded himself. She sighed again curling into him, and repositioning her backside so it was flush against the very parts of him he was trying to calm. A quiet moan made its way from her throat as she pulled her knees further into her chest. His struggle was over, a resounding failure. The flesh between his legs was as solid as rock, and the lustful beast inside became impossible to tame. His huge hands pressed into her smooth skin exploring their way over her extravagant curves. Abbie woke up moaning at the feel of her husband’s long fingers twisting elliptical motions over the tiny kernel between her thighs. His warm breath, and moist lips barely pressed against the back of her neck.

“Mmmm.” She hummed, widening her legs for him. She willed her eyes to open and sleepily looked back over her shoulder. Ichabod, ever the advantageous one, seized the opportunity to taste her lips. She turned her head even more so to see his eyes, now resting on her back so that he could stroke her face as he leaned over her. It was something they always did before making love, looked into one another’s eyes, and made sure the other was present. Even when what they wanted or needed wasn’t spoken, it was so easily ascertainable by looking into each other’s eyes. Ichabod knew from the way Abbie touched his cheek, and looked up at him, that she wanted to know if he was okay. He took her hand and kissed it offering a gentle nod as his answer. Satisfied with his answer Abbie turned back to her side lifting her leg, until she felt him slip between them. His hands tightened around her waist and breast just after he pushed himself inside of her. She made a noise that he’d come to worship, it wasn’t so much a noise as a breath. One that had come to convey how wonderful he felt to her every time he filled her completely. Ichabod settled into rhythm thrusting into her as if each stroke would be his last. His fingers returned to the pulsing nub at the top of her sex, and the hitch in her breath let him know how much it pleased her.  It felt as if his heart was expanding to fit all of the love he felt for her inside. Abbie remembering she’d gone to sleep with the window open pulled her pillow over her mouth to keep her moans, and whimpers from reaching the open air. However Ichabod’s deep sensual voice did nothing to help further her cause.

“Does it feel good Apple?” He whispered.

Abbie smothered a moan against her pillow. _He knew,_ she thought. He knew that nothing on earth made her feel so good. Every single time he put it down she was mind-blown and astounded as if he hadn’t put it down so many times before….as if he wouldn’t put it down again. She could never live without him, without this. He stopped moving, letting her know that he intended to have her reply.

“Does it feel good? He asked again taking his open mouth across her neck.

“Yes.” She moaned breathily.

“Now tell me what feels good?” He asked resuming his movement, increasing the strength and frequency of his strokes.

“Your dick!” She whined feeling her release approaching. “It feels so—please never stop, please never….OH MY GOD! She cried stiffening, then breaking and withering in his arms. Ichabod pressed his mouth to her neck, quietly groaning and professing his love as his seed spilled inside of her.

* * *

 

 

The next few weeks progressed more slowly than the ones before it. Things on the warfront had ground to a halt, and though Ichabod was concerned, he was partially relieved that there was little to no action as Abbie had fallen ill. For the past ten days she had been battling a nasty upper respiratory infection. It seemed that she was on the other side of it, but Ichabod was still adamant that she didn’t over exert herself. On her way home from work Abbie pulled up to the ATM singing along to the radio. There was an office pool for the state lottery, and she need cash for tomorrow if she wanted to join. She collected her cash and resumed singing as she started to drive off. She was nearly out of the banks parking lot when she glanced at the receipt, her tires came to a screeching halt. Abbie pulled into a parking space to examine it more closely.  

“Ha.” She laughed, looking down at her receipt. “I wish.” Abbie looked down at the time, it was a little after 2:30 pm so she hoped the bank wouldn’t be too crowded. She pulled her phone from the cup holder and quickly took a picture of her receipt so she and Jenny could laugh about it later. She shook her head getting out of the car, if it wasn’t one thing it was another.  

“Can I help who’s next?” A chipper young woman stationed behind the counter called. “Hello how can I help you?’ She asked as Abbie approached the counter.

“Hi, Zoe,” Abbie said reading her nametag. “There’s a mix-up with my account, I’m sure it’s just a computer error or something, can you take a look at it for me.” Abbie handed the clerk her driver’s license and bankcard with her account number.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Crane, let’s just pull up your account. Okay and what seems to be the problem?”

Abbie laughed, “Uh there is nearly twelve and a half million dollars in my account, and I don’t have “A” million dollars, let alone twelve.” She stated.

“Hmmm.” Zoe hummed returning to her computer. “Well I see that this is a joint account with Ichabod Crane, and it seems that last week on the 13th he signed for the funds to be deposited.”

Abbie wasn’t expecting to hear that. I’m sorry for the mix-up Mrs. Crane, I’ll have this situation rectified right away is what she expected to hear, not that her husband had deposited millions of dollars into her account and neglected to mention it.

Abbie felt her shoulders drop under the weight of the clerk’s statement. “I’m sorry can you run that by me one more time.” She asked trying to gain her bearings.

“Yes, I’m showing that he deposited fifteen million dollars into your account on the 13th, and it seems as if some of those funds were moved out into investments, which were actually handled by Patrick, he’s in today would you like to see him?”

Abbie forced herself to close her mouth. “No.” She quietly managed. “Uhh, no thank you. So just to reiterate there is twelve _million_ dollars in my savings account?”

“Well it’s actually spread throughout a network of accounts across a system of banks ensuring that all of your funds are FDIC insured. But essentially, yes.” She answered. Abbie drug her palm over her forehead, before pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Okay. Thank you.” Abbie felt like her world had been turned upside down as she exited the bank. The day had seemed normal and ordinary just fifteen minutes ago, now nothing seemed to make sense. She couldn’t seem to focus her scattered thoughts on the way home. How on earth did Ichabod get his hands on this kind of money, and why in the hell wouldn’t he say something. He had to realize that she would find out about it, he knew that she went over their statement at the end of every month. She pulled into the garage and sat for a moment trying to gather her thoughts before she went in to face him. Before she was out of the car, he’d opened the side door and was standing ready to greet her. She stepped into the house spurning his kiss. Not because she was mad, well at least not totally because she was mad, after nearly two weeks she was starting to feel better, but she still worried that she was a little contagious. Kissing, and all activities that entailed getting too close had been expressly forbidden, she’d even opted to sleep in his old room while recovering. He was upset when he realized she really wasn’t going to allow him to share her bed, but seeing how poorly she felt he decided not to put up a fight. He came in every night with his blanket and slept on the floor next to the bed, and every morning she chewed him out, and made him promise he would return to their bed to get proper rest. Ichabod couldn’t stay away from her, what she couldn’t understand was that he’d rather sleep on a bed of jagged rocks, and be near her, than sleep on a million feathers in her absence.

He stole behind her just after she unstrapped her gun, and placed her things on the table. His arms folded around her as he lay a kiss on the side of her temple that was so tender she couldn’t help but melt into it.

“Do you care to discuss it? He asked letting his arms lock around her belly.

“Discuss what?” She queried.

He presses his lips against the side of her head. “Your day, I presume that it was unsatisfactory, perhaps I can be of some assistance in remedying it?” He murmured.

“I bet you’d like that.” She said rolling her eyes.

“I’d rather hoped it would prove to be quite enjoyable for us both. Although if you were to wager a bet you would most certainly become a very wealthy woman because I would, love it.” He said sliding his fingertips up the inside of her thighs. “It has been far too long, Apple.” He added, whispering seductively. He’d been waiting since the moment she left for her to come back home.  

Abbie pulled her elbows up and pushed away from him. “Well it’s going to be even longer.” She said turning around to face him.

“Abbie…I understand your reasoning for keeping your distance before you were unwell, and you wished not to infect me, but you are better now are you not. I can see it in the increase of your energy, and the return of your appetite. I know you were afraid that I would become ill as well, and then neither of us would be able to spend time with Delton, but you are clearly past that now.”

“—Am I?” She asked glaring at him with pursed lips. “Because if I’m so much better how come you haven’t called off Irving, and why was I chained to a desk, yet a-gain today?” It was feeler, that statement. She’d causally suspected he had a hand in her desk duty, but talked herself out of him being overbearing enough to go through such lengths. But knowing now, that he held other secrets, she didn’t put it past him.

For a brief moment she could read the surprise on his face, but he quickly got back on his game and erased every inch of guilt. However Abbie knew her husband, and his hands were straightening and curling at his side.  

“If you are insinuating that I have somehow instructed or influenced Captain Irving to…”

“Cut the crap Crane!” Abbie interrupted. _Oh she is quite cross,_ he thought, _I am neither baby nor Ichabod, but once again Crane._

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to. That you’ve been meddling in my career, and yes you somehow convinced Frank not to let me off of the desk, or respond to _any_ calls. Are you seriously going to stand there and deny it?” She asked in an embittered tone. Ichabod remained silent staring at his wife not wanting to lie, and certainly not wanting to argue. Abbie looked up at his expressionless gaze, and closed her eyes taking her hand back through her hair.

“Great. Silence. You obviously had a lot to say to Frank, but nothing to me. Why should I expect anything less, there seems to be a lot of things you aren’t telling me these days.”

“And precisely what is that supposed to mean?” Ichabod asked breaking from his silence. Abbie threw her arms up.

“You tell me.”

“I admit it. I spoke to Captain Irving and asked him that you be removed from active duty until your illness dissipated.”

“I knew it. I. Knew. It. I said nooo Abbie your husband is supportive, and progressive, and he would never do anything so surreptitious and underhanded, and wait what am I forgetting here,” she mused sarcastically, “Oh yeah CONTROLLING! She screamed. Immediately she wished she hadn’t as her throat was still a little scratchy, “But who am kidding, of course you did it.” She brought her fingers to her neck to trying to wiggle out the discomfort. Her voice was raw and quiet when she spoke again. “If you think I’m just going to jump and forgive you for this, you are severely mistaken.” Abbie said curling her lip up in disgust. Ichabod turned and walked over to the refrigerator and removed the juice. After filling up a glass for her, he set the kettle to boil.

“I don’t think you heard me, I am _not_ just going to get over this.” She reminded him.

“Oh I heard you quite clearly.” He stated offering her the glass. She stepped back pursing her lips and turning her head up in refusal of his offer. A cool drink was exactly what she needed at the moment but she was far too deep in her feelings to tell him that.

“Drink it.” He ordered sternly. Abbie took the glass. Satisfied that she had what she needed Ichabod moved on.

“Who, might I ask, said anything about my requesting your forgiveness?” He asked.

“Oh really?” Abbie said nearly choking on her juice.

“Yes. Really.” He answered leaning closer to her. “You are my wife, it is my sworn duty to watch over and protect you. You were suffering from illness, and whether you choose to believe it or not, you were not quite yourself. Your stamina fell, your head was cloudy, and your strength was but a portion of what it normally is.” He raised his pointer finger, and spoke over her attempts to interrupt him. “In your line of work these sort of symptoms can mean the difference between life and death. I will not see you harmed because of your failure to properly recognize your limitations, so yes I confess, I requested that you be confined to desk duty, and yes I would do it again, without question.”

“You have no right.” Abbie set her glass down on the countertop. “I attended school, I was admitted to, and made my way through the academy, I have worked _hard_ to get to where I am in mycareer, you have no right muscling in and inserting yourself into _my_ work life and making decisions that affect it.”

“Abigail if your position was one that denoted less danger, and did not put your life in jeopardy I would agree, however given your explicit circumstances I disagree. I understand why you are upset, but please put yourself into my position. He reached out touching her face, but she stepped away.

“You know well that you mean everything to me. I cannot lose you.” He stated softly, as his hands found her waist, and held her in place so she couldn’t get away. It worked for a moment. She looked into his eyes, felt his gruff voice moving through her, and nearly forgot why she was upset. His head lowered and her eye’s closed preparing for his kiss. But then she remembered the money and pushed him away again.

“No. I allow you to be a part of everything, and even the things I don’t allow you into, you always find a way in. You have free range over every single part of me, and yet….and yet you somehow manage to amass a fortune, and I have to find out about it at the ATM.”

Ichabod’s face fell. “Oh Abbie.” He closed his eyes completely astounded that he’d forgotten to mention the money to her.

“There is over twelve million dollars in my account and “Oh Abbie” is the best that you can do. Ichabod what the hell is going on?”   She asked eyeing him.

“I so wanted to share the news with you, I merely….” He didn’t want to tell her that he forgot, he knew she wouldn’t receive it favorably, but it was the truth. He decided upon another approach. “Do you recall that I have been developing an App with Perry and Ethan?” He asked. Abbie nodded.

“We completed it, and we had multiple offers for purchase. Ultimately we were able to sell it for the very hefty sum of thirty million dollars.”

“Wait a minute you sold an app? An app is where all of that money came from?” Abbie asked in pure astonishment. She stood there gawking at him, even though she felt like she needed to have a seat.

The corners of his mouth bent up into a winsome smile. “I wanted to share it with you as soon as I heard the news, however we were otherwise engaged that day, and the following day I decided that it would be best if I waited until the monies were actually in our account, in the event that something went wrong, or the buyer backed out. I intended to divulge the news as soon as the money was deposited but you fell ill, and after that….”

“After that?” Abbie echoed, waiting to hear what excuse he possibly had for withholding such monumental information.

He stepped forward looming over her. “And after that, it all seemed trivial, and of very little consequence.”

Abbie lips parted as her brows drew together. “Twelve million dollars seemed inconsequential?”

“Oh no Mrs. Crane, _fifteen_ million dollars seemed inconsequential.” He crooned lifting his eyebrows. “It could have been a billion, or even a trillion, and the result would have been the same.” He hooked his hands behind her legs and lifted her onto the table. It had been nearly nine days since he’d tasted his wife’s lips, or felt the delicious warmth that only she could bring him. He cupped her face in his hands and ran his thumb down her full lips. He was so thankful that she was feeling better, he hated seeing her sick. His lips found her forehead as he released a heavy sigh against it. The yearning deep within him radiated up through his belly, and festered around the base of his spine. Abbie moaned reveling in the feel of his lips against her skin. She hadn’t permitted him this close in what felt like ages. The feelings that he brought her, love, lust, passion, fear, comfort, security, protection, refuge, it made her a little sad to think of how easily he could break her heart. But his strong hand coiling tightly around her hips, and his lips….lord when those lips touched the skin on her forehead she felt blessed…she felt adored.

“Will it always be this way?” She asked.

“I pray it will.” Ichabod moved his mouth to Abbie’s, but she grimaced and turned her head. “I’m probably still contagious.

“Apple.” He said turning her mouth back to his. She looked into his eyes and knew right away that he couldn’t wait any longer. She knew because she felt the same way.

“I don’t want you to get sick.” She whispered.  

“Have no fear. It stands to reason that if I were susceptible to this illness I would have taken ill shortly after you. Further. If you have it. I want it.” He moved his mouth to hers placing small kisses over the outer surface of her lips. Soon he was pulling the bulk of them inside of his mouth. Sucking them only increased the yearning inside of him, he parted them and pushed his tongue against hers. His hand edged up her shirt, pulling her breast free, until his fingers tightened around her nipples. The hairs on the back of his neck raised at the hum creeping from the back of her throat. Her arms stretched up and locked around the back of his neck as he lifted her from the counter. He had to have her. Now.

They were almost out of the kitchen when the steam from the kettle forced its way out, and a loud shrill whistle rang out.

“Mmm.” Abbie whined lowering her head against his chest. She giggled. “You deal with that and I’m going to go up and get ready for you.”

“I shall be right behind you.” He stated gruffly, reluctantly lowering her to the ground. Abbie bounded toward the stairs as Ichabod tended to the kettle. He finished tidying up quickly and was up the steps in mere minutes, but much to his surprise he found Abbie putting her clothes back on rather than taking them off.

“No.” He groaned.

“You know how it goes baby. Seamus called, Bob’s back and he wants to see us.”

“But.” Ichabod’s shoulders slumped as he protested.

“Hey.   We’re going to do this, just later. I promise baby, tonight.” Abbie said raising up to kiss her disappointed husband. “Let’s go.”

  

A little over a half hour later the witnesses arrived at Bob’s farm. They made their way to the barn out back where they found him carving a fish decoy out of a block of pinewood. There was a host of old farm tools hung about the walls, and an old tractor in the far left hand corner. Bob removed his safety glasses when he saw the pair approaching.

“Ichabod, Abigail.” He said shaking Ichabod’s hand and pulling Abbie into an embrace. So Seamus tells me that the two of you are now husband and wife.

“We are.” Ichabod conformed sidling up to Abbie, and wrapping an arm around her.

“My most heartfelt congratulations, may God shower the both of you with blessings.” Bob said, gesturing for them to have a seat. They spent a little time speaking with him about his journey as well as the things that had, or rather _hadn’t_ been occurring on the war front. Once all of the niceties were exchanged Bob dove straight into business.

“Seamus tells me you were anxious to speak with me while I was gone, how can I be of assistance to you.” He asked taking a seat. The couple spent some time filling Bob in on the dreams that they recalled, hopeful that he could shed some light on the situation.

He sat quietly looking down for a time so extended it had long broached the condition of being an awkward silence. Finally he spoke. “What is it that you hope to learn from examining these dreams?”

The couple looked at each other, “We just want to know who we are.” Abbie stated.

“Do you not already know who you are? What your purpose is? These are things that you already know the answer to. What you seek to do is understand all.” He corrected them.

“It just feels like there are these…” Abbie sighed trying to decide upon the right word to describe it.

“Holes.” Ichabod offered. “There is a feeling that…we have known one another before.” He added.

The old man leaned back in his chair and began stroking his beard. “Perhaps you have, but perhaps these holes, as you call them, serve a purpose. Some things are important to remember…other things it is important that we forget.”

Abbie leaned forward in her chair. “But these things, they’re not really remembered or forgotten, they are kind of in-between. It’s a weird feeling to have.” She stated hoping that he would understand. Bob stood from his seat and started walking towards the house, he turned around when he realized that they weren’t following him.

“Come along dreamers.” He commanded. The pair sprang to their feet and quickly caught up with him. He posed a question to them along the way.

“A child is born to this life, and it cries. Do you suppose that those tears are a weeping in remembrance of the life they left behind, or a battle cry to the one that lies ahead? Or is it perhaps as you say Abigail, something in-between?” The witnesses didn’t answer. He knew that they were listening, he knew that they would have offered a response if they had one, but they didn’t. He posed the question not to receive a definitive answer, but to make them aware of how much they did not know. To reassure them that there was no harm in not knowing or understanding everything. They followed him down a long hallway, finally stopping at a blue door on the left. He pulled a key from his pocket, unlocked it, and ushered them inside. The room was empty. It wasn’t empty as in there was just a bed and nothing else, it was empty as in there was absolutely nothing in the room. Abbie and Ichabod sat crossed legged on the floor at his instruction, while he sat opposite them.

There are things once known that cannot be unknown. The way you both feel for each other now, the energy between you is at peace. You are happy, a perfect understanding of all that you are to each other seems preferable. But what if your lives take you upon separate paths, and you still carried a perfect knowledge of your love. Leading that life would be nearly impossible. It wasn’t a threat, it was an observation, but Ichabod couldn’t help but fall into protection mode. He placed his arm in front of his wife.

“We will never be separated, whilst I draw breath.” He stated in a strong convicted tone. Abbie reached forward and pulled his hand into her lap, slowly rubbing her fingertips over his knuckles. It was comforting to him, and he knew without her speaking that she needed him to calm down.

“Ichabod, am I speaking of the future, or of the past?” A faint, but intriguing smile settled upon his lips.

“I can help you to fill the missing spaces, but be aware, we cannot undo this.   Do you wish to proceed?” He asked. Ichabod and Abbie looked over a one another, tightening the grip between their clasped hands.

“Yes.” They said in unison.

“Very well.” He instructed them to face each other, and join hands while reciting an incantation.

Soon they fell into a dreamlike state. There was a budding rush where they seemed to become aware of all things living upon the earth. Their minds began to travel to what felt like high places, first they saw the forest, the waters, winds and clouds, all of them below them somehow. Next they saw a vast array of stars surrounding them by the billions, and then they came to a place that felt oddly familiar. Smaller feet, but feet they nonetheless knew belonged to them ran through fields and fields of wildflowers. They could feel the happiness they felt then as if it were all occurring at that very moment.

They were aware that age was not measured in the same way in this place, that they were both new souls, but gaging by their appearance they looked to be between eleven and thirteen years old.

“Yes!” Abigail rejoiced throwing her hands up in jubilation when she reached the center of the clearing. She stood in the grassy circle gazing through the flowers surrounding her in search of him. She smiled when she heard him approaching. Ichabod clumsily stumbled through the clearing, bending immediately and resting his hands on his knees. His sky blue eye’s looked up frowning at her in sheer disbelief.

“Not possible,” He huffed gathering his breath. “I ran my fastest ever.”

“I know you did.” She giggled. “I took a short cut. Remember what Gideon says, work smarter not harder Ichabod. Ichabod stood straight immediately knowing how she beat him.

“You ran along the outer-end, are you mad?” He asked sharply.

“No. I am determined.” She stated boldly. An uneasy feeling flooded the boy’s belly. Abigail was his very best friend, as kind as anyone he’d ever known, but she had an audaciousness of spirit that frightened him.

“Determined to do what, destroy yourself?

“No. To win.” She retorted as if he should have known the answer before asking.

“You must never do that again.” He stated stepping toward her.

“Calm yourself Ichabod, it isn’t that big of a deal.” She argued.

He folded his arms behind his back and squared his shoulders. “Promise or I shall never return to these fields with you, and further I will inform Gideon, and you will never be allowed out to watch your precious suns set again.” He threatened. Abigail who had never taken kindly to threats, folded her arms across her chest ignoring the sudden breeze that was wildly blowing her curls across her face.

“Right then.” Ichabod stated, before heading out of the clearing. Abigail quickly chased after him and grabbed his sleeve.

“No Ichabod wait. I promise. I swear. I will never run along the outer end again.” She held her palm up in front of him, and after a moment when he was certain she meant it, he placed his palm against hers.

“Friends?” She smiled.

“Always.” He replied returning her smile. “Please remember to take those off, you nearly gave us away last time.” He reminded her pointing to the crown of flowers she’d placed around her head. “Your dress!” He exclaimed, pointing down to a small tear she had in the side of it. “You matron will not be pleased.”

“Oh, brother. I’m so tired of this stupid dress, it’s constantly getting caught on one thing or another. Turine insisted that I wear it for the recitation this evening, I miss my britches.” Her eye’s lifted to the sky.

“Come on, it’s almost time.” She said taking a seat in the grass. She lay back opening her eyes to the glorious sky above her. All the warm colors, mixing with cool ones and running together in vast display across the sky kindled something in her she couldn’t describe. Ichabod lay a few feet away from her looking off into the sunsets.

“Ichabod.” She said quietly. “Isn’t it the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen?” Ichabod kept his gaze on the sky for a moment before turning to his friend.

“Nearly.” He whispered.

Later that evening at the recitation, boys and girls ranging from apparent ages of five to twenty sat beneath the beautifully painted cathedral ceiling of the grand hall. All of them were clothed in white garments as they sat cross legged looking towards the front of the room. The night proceeded as usual, the various sections of children came forth to tell or show what they had learned since the last recitation. From there, if what they had learned was satisfactory they were promoted to the next level of being, if not they continued on at their current level until they were ready to progress. Abigail and Ichabod had both managed to progress at every recitation. They were already further along than some souls quite a bit older than them. A restless Abigail waited anxiously for the event to come to a close, they’d been sitting for hours. Just as it appeared she might get her wish something unusual occurred, all of the elders huddled together at the front of the hall. Arthur Bernard, one of younger members of the council came to the center of the stage. Abigail looked across the room to catch Ichabod’s eye, her brows furrowed and shoulder’s raised, a simple gesture asking him if he knew anything about these events. He slowly shook his head, offered her a small smile and returned his attention to the front of the room. These recitations were formal, occurring the same way each and every time they were held. The departure from this routine set everyone whispering about what might be happening.

Arthur held his hand up to silence the crowd. “Quiet children, quiet.” He continued speaking loudly so that his voice could be clearly heard in the farthest corners of the hall.

“Earlier today, the Jewel of Polyanthus was taken from the crested veil. As you are all aware, the veil serves as a protection barring outsiders from entering into our sacred realm. It is our conclusion that whosoever has taken the jewel…seeks to undermine our mission…and further has fallen into collusion with the enemy.”

There was a low roar of voices sweeping through the crowd, everyone was whispering and looking about. Abigail and Ichabod’s eyes met again, hers filling with alarm, and his lending her a portion of his calm.

“Silence children, silence. I ask that the one who has taken the sacred jewel confess, and throw yourself upon the mercy of the elders. If you do not…every single soul here will be forced to revert to circle zero, and we shall all start again.” He nodded to two of the other elders who flipped a large hourglass like figure, but the sand sifted from it at record speed. It would be empty in what we know on earth as a minute. “You have but a short duration.” He added.

Abbie felt a steady panic rising in the center of her chest. The souls that were bound for earth did not have the time to return to circle zero, they were needed now. Many of the women they were bound for were already far along in fetal development, some of the souls had already visited the wombs from which they were to be born. They would all miscarry, or be stillborn. Even her counterparts, though far away from dispatch, were on a truncated time table. Returning to the beginning of training would place them so far behind. Gideon had said that this was a place for special souls, souls who would either change or influence others to change the world. They were needed. Before she even realized she had stood to her feet watching as the last modicums of sand headed towards the bottom of the glass.

“I TOOK IT! She shouted. A hush fell over the crowd, as every eye turned to her. “I took it! Please,” She bowed her head. “Brother Bernard, I beg you, do not punish the lot, I throw myself upon the mercy of the Council of Elders.” She turned to her matron with tear filled eyes. “Mother Turine, you have been a most faithful and constant servant to our cause, forgive me. I have failed to adhere to your teachings, but know that my shortcomings are not a reflection of your instruction.”

Arthur Bernard turned to the men standing beside him. “Seize her.” The two men grabbed Abigail by her arms and started leading her away.

“Abigail!” One of the smaller souls cried.

“It’s alright Sojourner, don’t be afraid.” Abbie stated trying to sound reassuring.

She searched for Ichabod’s eye’s she needed to tell him that he had to find the soul that really took the jewel, before it was too late. She would be doomed, but at least the souls bound for earth would be allowed to dispatch. Only she couldn’t find him, he wasn’t where she had last seen him, and then all of a sudden he was right in front of her.    

“Unhand her!” He sneered, clutching a sword that appeared far too large, and heavy for him to hold.

“Ichabod.” Sir Arthur yelled. “Put that down before someone gets hurt.” But Ichabod didn’t flinch, he stood there unfazed, as it the men before him weren’t twice his size.

“If you do not unhand her, a lot of someones will get hurt.” He replied never taking his eyes from the men in front of him. The two men looked to Arthur Bernard, who indicated that they continue along. They tightened their hold around Abbie and tried to move around Ichabod. He raised the blade, and the men immediately stopped in their tracks relinquishing their hold on Abigail.

“Ichabod.” She said gazing at him in wonder. There was a light emanating from his hands, glowing brightly, and covering the entire blade of his sword. “What’s happening to you?” She asked. He could feel something different, a heightened sense of awareness coiling through him, but he didn’t have the time to try to figure it out.

“Come on.” He said holding his hand out to her. She took it, and the pair ran from the main hall of the building.

“Stop them.” Arthur yelled sending a group of men after them. “Seal the exits.”

Once outside of the main hall, the duo grew frustrated realizing all of the exits had been sealed. Ichabod stood spinning around with a sword in one hand and Abigail’s fingers in the other. “In here!” He yelled pointing to a small room off to the side.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked, you’ll be punished. “You have to go back, tell them you’re sorry, tell them that you didn’t mean it.” She implored him.

“Why are _you_ doing this?” He countered. “You didn’t take the jewel.” One look into her eyes told him what he already. Her heart couldn’t stand to see the world in destruction from being delayed all of those purposeful souls.

“Ichabod, you have to go back, you have to discover who really took the jewel, or _this_ world could be in danger.” She pleaded.

“I am not going back without you, and you are not going back at all…they will send you to the outer end for this. Have you heard what happens to the souls who are cast there, I won’t let that happen to you.” He held his palm out to her. “Friends.”

Abigail looked at her best friend’s palm, dazzled by the light flickering from it. She pressed her palm flat against it. “Always.” She pledged. She pulled his hand into hers. “What do you think it is?” She asked.

“I’m not sure.” He admitted looking down at his palms. I remember feeling afraid, and then very, very angry. A sickening sort of feeling, and then it just happened.” A cluttering noise from the hallway brought their attention to the door. They pushed themselves into the corner opposite of it, preparing for the battle to come. Two men broke through the door. Ichabod stepped in front of Abbie clutching his sword. He was young, nothing more than skin and bones, but he had learned to wield his sword from Gideon himself, and there was not soul more versed in sword play than Gideon.

“Lay your weapons down, and you shall be spared.” He warned the advancing guards. The men looked at each other, and cautiously moved forward. The first man fell when Ichabod locked his blade against his, and pressed his palm into his chest. The light in his palm flared upon impact and the man dropped to the floor. Somehow Ichabod knew that he wasn’t dead, just knocked out. He also knew that had he wanted to extinguish the man’s soul with the touch of his hand he could have. The sword battle between him and the next man ended when Ichabod was able to knock the sword from his challenger’s hand. Ichabod touched him with his palms and he joined his friend on the floor. A third man came to the door, and Ichabod resumed his fighting stance, within moments he lay next to the others. This continued on a few more times until the would be challengers turned away in fear.

Gideon was resting in the garden when Arthur Bernard, and a few of the other elders appeared.

“Ahh, young brother Brother. I trust the discovery stratagem is going well?” In the past, Gideon had overseen the discovery stratagems himself, but as time went on, he left it to others. He had waited so long for the chosen ones to emerge, he didn’t have the heart to keep watching time after time, when no one came forth. Tell me have you yet discovered the ones who will save us all?

“Yes sir.”

Gideon sighed. “Ah well, perhaps next time—wait a moment, what is it that you’ve just said.”

“Yes sir. We have discovered them, the jumper of realms, and the light bearer.” Arthur corrected.

“Praise God.” Gideon said raising to his feet in pure elation. He couldn’t believe the chosen ones had finally been discovered. “Very well, who is our grace, who is he?” Gideon asked.

“She sir. It is a she, it is Abigail, she rose first.” Arthur informed him.

A bright smile stretched across Gideon’s mouth. “Abigail…very well, very well indeed. A young soul for such a feat. Well what are you waiting for bring them, her and her aeternalis, bring them to me at once.” He stated. “I will be waiting at the fountain.” The old man’s long white hair brushed past his shoulders as he turned to leave. Arthur reached out touching his shoulder.

“That’s just it sir.” Arthur said. “Her aeternalis.”

“Yes?” He asked.

“He won’t let anyone near her.” Arthur reported.

Gideon laughed, “How do you mean he won’t let anyone near her, Abigail’s aeternalis can’t be much older than she is.”

“Aye sir, but he has a skill with the sword that is far superior to that of his grouping, and somehow he has already discovered his light energy.”

“How is that possible?” Gideon muttered, stroking his mustache. “The prophecy says that the use of his light would not be possible until he is willing to sacrifice his life-force. Who is it?”

“Your protégé sir.”

Gideon’s mouth fell open. “Ichabod.”

Gideon, followed closely by a group of elders, made it to the room where Ichabod and Abbie were held up. He tisked at the pile of bodies laying out in front of the door. Ichabod had placed them there as a warning to all who dared to enter. Gideon kneeled placing a finger to the head of one of the men on the floor.

“They’re sleeping.” He said upon standing. “Give them each a half measure of lemon milk and they shall be good as new.

Gideon came through the door slowly holding his hands in the air to show that he meant no harm. An army of men and women filed in behind them. Abigail and Ichabod, were seated in the corner, nervously huddled together. Abbie began looking around for a way out of the room, while Ichabod stood wiping his brow in preparation for more battles.

“Sir.” He called sternly. “Please turn back. Do not force me to bear my sword against you.”

Gideon pulled his sword, and tapped it against the ground. “Do you believe that you can best me boy?” He asked side eyeing him.

“No sir, I do not.” Ichabod answered honestly. He trained with Gideon nearly every day, he had never come close to winning a sparring match. “But I am fully prepared to meet my destruction trying,” Ichabod vowed, “Are you?”  

“Your arrogance Ichabod, it is your most prominent flaw. I have taken you under my wing, I have begun teaching you all that I know, about swordmanship, about spirituality…about the life that is to come. And you would destroy me to protect this girl?” He asked casting a glance toward Abigail.

Ichabod straightened his sword. “You are to me, as those on earth refer to as father.” His voice cracked as he spoke. “I can never repay you for all that you have done for me…all that you have shown me, I honor and respect you above all others.” His voice steadied, and grew dark. “But if you attempt to come another step forward, by God I will slay you.” Ichabod tightened his grip on his sword. “I swear it.” He added barely above a whisper.

“You are not thinking Ichabod. There are thousands of warriors protecting this place. What are you to do, slay them all?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

Ichabod felt a prickling underneath his skin, the light in his hands grew and trickled up his arms, it kept spreading until it illuminated his entire body.  He took a step forward and drew a deep breath. “Yes.”

Gideon dropped his weapon to his side. “Warriors, council men and women I present to you God’s chosen witnesses…Our grace and prince.” With that he lay his sword down and kneeled behind it.  

“Our grace and prince.” The others echoed, bending their knee.

Ichabod and Abigail looked at one another confused beyond belief. All of the people who had taught them, and looked after them, now kneeled before them pledging their allegiance. It was then that they came to understand, that the story of the jewel being stolen was all a ruse used to draw them out. Abigail was the sacrificer, the protector of the world, she would do anything to save mankind, and Ichabod would stop at nothing to save her. Their new instruction began immediately, Abbie was trained in combat and weapontry, while Ichabod already a warrior was trained to have a deeper understanding of humanity. Ultimately it was hoped that their training would render each complete and total equals, capable of completing the tasks of the other if one were to be rendered incapacitated. The only thing that could not be shared was their gifts. Ichabod would forever be the one and only bearer of light, while Abigail would be the only soul capable of shifting realms. Everyone tried to treat them as they always did, and a few actually succeeded. Even though Abigail wouldn’t answer to Grace, and Ichabod refused to be called Prince, most had a difficult time seeing them as same souls they had lived and grown with. Because of this they drew further and further into one another, when they were alone, together in the fields or otherwise, it was as if nothing had ever changed.

With detailed instruction the pair studied, learned, and flew through the ranks. It seemed that within the blink of an eye, they were at circle double zero. The next level was dispatch. It was odd, Abbie always thought of the way things progressed. They were to be babies on earth, so she wondered why they grew larger instead of smaller. Ichabod had grown big and tall, a beard grew to cover his face, and Abigail, she had grown be a beautiful young woman. The day of their final recitation Abbie lifted her gown running through the fields of purple and green wildflowers, as the sun seemed to brighten every inch of the realm. When she reached the clearing she found Ichabod sitting in the center of it sipping a rehydration pack. He reached into his bag, and offered her one of her own.

“Show off. I could have moved quicker if I didn’t have this super long gown on.”

“Ah yes, only.” Ichabod stood grabbing hold of the gown that hung around his ankles.

“It seems I’ve won our final race.” He said donning a smug smile.

“Oh what does it matter,” Abbie said sitting in the grass, “We won’t remember any of this anyway.” She said as she pulled a few blades of grass from the ground and flung them into the wind. Ichabod returned to his seat casting his eyes to the ground. He was well aware of the protocol for dispatch, he’d been thinking about it for a time. The things that they learned were embedded in them, tied to and interwoven into their souls. It came back to them when they most needed it, in the form of what people on earth often referred to as intuition or sixth sense. There were things that they just knew. Their skills would also be easily recovered with a little effort and training. Yet their express memories, the memories they had made while acquiring all of these skills and virtues would be wiped clean. This place, their friends, their way of life would all be forgotten.

He turned to her. “I cannot imagine forgetting you.” He pledged. Abbie pulled her hand up from the earth and placed it over his. In this place the souls moved in pairs. Each soul had another soul that complimented theirs perfectly. These were called aeternalis, or eternals. Abigail was his, but even still he felt something more for her. Just a short while ago during his periodic walk with Gideon, he confided in him about the feelings he’d been having.

The men walked along the rolling water with their swords swinging from the belts securing their robes.

“You seem troubled boy. What seems to be the bother?” Gideon asked. Ichabod looked at him a long while deciding if he was comfortable sharing the things that plagued his mind.

“It’s Abigail.” He admitted.

“Your Grace, what of her?” Gideon asked.

“We are set for dispatch after the next recitation.”

“—You mean to say that you will hopefully be worthy of dispatch after the next recitation.” Gideon smiled. “Do try to control your ego Ichabod.”

“Yes sir.” Ichabod said laughing at his own over confidence. “I feel…” He started trying to put words to his emotions. He took a breath and started again.   “When I’m with her, well even when I’m not...” Ichabod stopped walking and turned to Gideon.

“The thought of having no memory of her, it vexes me.” He admitted.

“You mustn’t be afraid my boy, you will recall all that you should.” Gideon said hoping to encourage him.

“Yes I know, but I should recall her, she…” Ichabod pursed his lips, as his eyes fell to the ground. “She…”

“God have mercy.” Gideon said unable to hide his disappointment. “She shares your heart.” He stated quietly. Ichabod found the strength to meet his mentor’s gaze.

“Rather, she holds the entire thing.” He confessed. “I stand before you a corpse without her.”

“Ichabod no.”

“I have seen others who have felt this way for their aeternalis. Would it be so wrong?”

“Others are not you. Others are not the ones chosen to save all of earth from destruction.” A small thought crept into the back of Gideon’s mind. “Does Abigail share these affections?” He queried.

“I’ve not revealed the nature of my feelings to her.” Ichabod said, once again walking.

“That is not what I asked. Does she share your sentiment?” Gideon looked on as a wistful smile enveloped Ichabod’s face causing his eyes to shine brighter than he’d ever seen them.

“Yes, I believe she does.” He answered. Gideon turned to him alarmed, as they stopped off in front of a small jetty.  

“Have you…” His eye’s finished asking the question that he couldn’t bring his mouth to ask.

Ichabod’s eyes grew wide. “Oh. No. No.   Gideon…” His eyes searched the water. “But I would be remiss in not stating that I have thought of it, often.”

“Well stop. What you are supposing is dangerous. On earth when you share of yourself the way you wish to do with Abigail, a child is born. As you well know we are not creators here, but the energy from sharing yourself is no less important, you will merge parts of your soul, and when that happens it makes the process of forgetting more difficult than you can imagine. You will walk through your life feeling as though you’re missing a part of yourself. Your ability to perform your task appropriately rest upon you being capable of forgetting certain things, while remembering others.   We well know that Abigail is your aeternalis, if it is as you say, and she also shares your heart it will already prove very difficult for you two to forget. If you go through with what you are thinking of, I can assure you very vital information will be lost.

“Father.” Ichabod rarely used the term father, but there were times when he needed to convey the reverence he had for Gideon even when his feelings were contrary to his guidance. “Forgive me, but you cannot possibly understand the ungovernable desire that lives inside of my heart.”

“Oh.” Gideon said wisely. “Do you honestly believe that you are the first to feel as you do?” He motioned for Ichabod to have a seat on a bench they’d happened upon. “I was roughly your age, my aeternalis was a girl as well, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was…a treacherous time. There was an evil being born, not simply any evil, an evil that would plague this world for many a time to come. We had one task, to keep it from entering the world. When we were dispatched I somehow held on to her memory, it took two passes through the decharger for me to completely forget her. Vital information was lost, and our mission, needless to say, was a failure. The evil came into the world, and took many souls to damnation…and it still does. It seemed as though there would never be rest, until a prophecy was born, God would send us two witnesses who would save the world from this evil.”

Ichabod mouth slowly opened as he began to piece things together. “It was you.” He had heard that there was a central mission failure that necessitated his and Abigail’s existence, but he never knew the details surrounding what had happened.

“It was, I have carried the weight of my actions for a time indeed. And now, I have been given the chance to see the mission I failed to complete, completed. I beg you boy, do not make the same mistakes that I have made. Start now, prepare to accept what is to come. Your time here with Abigail, comes to a close, but perhaps in a place and time farther away from here then you could ever imagine, you will share a time again.” Gideon stood and placed a hand upon Ichabod’s shoulder. “I trust you will make the right decision.”  

“Ichabod.”

“Ichabod.” Abigail called softly shaking his shoulder. He looked over at her, holding on to her empty rehydration pack. “What were you thinking about just now?” She asked.

“The recitation, dispatch…never seeing you again.” He stated, quietly. She turned to him.

“We will see each other again, it’s the prophecy.” She reminded him.

“Yet, we will not know who the other is, what we are to each other.” He lamented.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She said looking out at the sea of flowers. She wrapped her arms around her knees. “Can’t we just.” She closed her eyes trying to ward off her fear of the coming day. “Can’t we just…be here together right now.” She added softly. He looked over at her, her bright eyes sparkled as she rested her head on her arms. Before he could stop himself he’d reached out and gently lay the backside of his fingers across her cheek. As if he were mesmerized he let them glide down to her chin before he’d quite realized what he was doing. He withdrew his hand and bowed his head, just as hers raised. Her fingertips traced along the trail he had just made.

“Ichabod.” She whispered, but he kept his gaze cast downward.

“Ichabod, look at me.” She whispered again this time leaning closer to him. He looked at her briefly quickly returning his eyes to the grass. She ducked her head under his in search of his eyes, but once she was there, she was overcome with the desire to kiss his lips. It was supposed to be quick and soft and sweet. A small indulgence considering all of the times she’d contemplated doing it. And it was. But then she couldn’t stop herself from doing it again, and then he did it back, softer, longer. And then they did it again, and again, and before she knew it her back was on the grass and his hand was covering her hip. His tongue sought out hers, and he felt as though he wanted to give her access to every part of him, to his soul, the vessel between his legs grew and hardened in relation to this need. His lips and breath covered her neck, and she couldn’t help but pull her knee up against his side. She felt her rear digging into the grass as his fingers slipped beneath her thigh, and held her flesh against his hip.    

A deep unwieldy moan surged from the back of his throat, and Abbie was certain that she was laying on the very stars that hung around them. She felt as though every inch of her body was heightened to a raised edge and kissed by a breeze softer than the clouds themselves. His hips drove into her in strong circular motions that opened her mouth and suspended her breath. She felt better than anything he’d ever felt. His eyes blinked open wide as he pulled back and rested his backside upon his heels.  

“Ichabod what is it?” She asked sitting up.

No one said I love you there, in part because it was redundant, everyone loved everyone. Another reason is because emotions were easily read and transferred from one soul to another. As quickly as Abigail had asked the question she knew the answer. She could feel his love, his devotion seeping through the surface of his body, and she could also feel his fear.

“We’ll be together again.” She said raising to her knees as her hands went up his chest. “Even if we don’t remember who we are, or what we were to one another, I don’t care, I just want to be with you.” She added pressing her lips to his. He looked at her through dreamy dark eyes, and stretched his limbs around her.  

“We should have done this a time ago.” He whispered. “Meet me here, this evening after recitation. Stay here with me through til preparation for dispatch.”  

Abbie’s eyes fell to the ground, and Ichabod immediately sensed her worry. He slipped his finger beneath her chin and lifted her eyes to his. “We will do nothing but hold to one another, I swear it.” He promised. That night while the girls and young women in her grouping danced and celebrated their farewells she slipped away. She crept out through the grass turning back one final time to view the women she’d spent her existence with. When she made it to the clearing Ichabod was already there surrounded by dozens of twinkling flower lights he’d picked while waiting for her. He stood as he heard her feet shuffling through the flowers. She stopped just at the edge of the clearing. He noticed that she had changed from the gown she’d worn to the recitation. Her new gown was made from a loose and flowing silkened fabric gathered in only at her waist, and fastened closed over one shoulder. He knew then that he had never seen her more beautiful. He met her at the edge of the circle lifting her into his arms and kissing her hello. They stayed there that night, locked together in each other’s embrace. They laughed and recounted times long gone past, and encouraged and comforted one another through the fear of their uncertain futures. And then the morning broke, and so did their hearts.

They filed into the building where the decharger was housed, pairs and pairs of aeternalis were in line for dispatch. The souls were lined up in order of the importance of their mission, from least to greatest. Ichabod and Abigail would be the last to go. When they finally came to the front of the line Ichabod was surprised to learn that he and Abigail wouldn’t be dispatched at the same time. She had completed her training, but the world was not yet ready to receive her. There were many other souls that needed to go on before her, a bevy of strong determined spirits who would change and enlighten the times. Then and only then when the world was ready, and the conditions were right would she be dispatched. Until then she would be placed into a sleep pod, and remain in a state of extended unconsciousness until it was time for her to wake. Ichabod insisted upon seeing Abigail to sleep before leaving. Gideon and Turine stood in front of the decharger waiting for them to say their farewells. Abbie sat up in her pod stretching into Ichabod’s kisses as the wetness from his eyes covered her cheeks, and mingled with her own. His hands delicately curved around her face, as he placed a final kiss on her forehead. Sleep well my heart, may your dreams be every bit as beautiful as you.” Ichabod watched as the pod was sealed and just like that she was gone. There were mountains that weighed less than the heaviness that fell over him. Only moments later he lay in the decharger waiting for everything he’d ever known to be ripped away from him.

“Gideon, I will do my very best…know that if I serve the world half as well as you have served me, than we shall have nothing to fear.” Gideon’s eye’s shone with fondness and appreciation, he briefly wondered why it had become so hard to see from them, and then he realized that they were filling with water.

He spoke in a low tone. “As you well know, we are not creator’s here, however if we were, and I was so fortunate as to create a child, I would have been honored in the highest order if he would have been exactly like you.”

Ichabod nodded folding his arms across his chest. “Father.” He said instead of goodbye.

“God speed, my son.” Gideon replied. The glass-like covering sealed and the process began. After Ichabod’s first pass through, his memories of this place were wiped clean, save one area that seemed unaffected by the machine. The man and woman manning the machine narrowed down the section resisting erasure.

“Abigail.” Gideon muttered under his breath, without having to be told.

“Sir,” The man seated in front of the decharger turned to him and said. “We will have to pass him through again. Gideon knew and trusted Ichabod, he’d explained to him everything that was at stake and didn’t believe for a moment that Ichabod went against his instruction. The man and woman in charge with operating the decharger exchanged looks of astonishment. They had only seen the inability to forget when someone consummated their spirit with their aeternalis, however Ichabod’s memories were laid bare before them and they knew this wasn’t the case.

“Sir we’ve never seen anything like it. It’s almost like he’s somehow cognizant of what’s happening, and he’s fighting to hold on to her.” The young woman remarked.

Gideon gave them the nod and they passed him through again. He turned to Turine, who had also come to see the witnesses into their pods. She placed an encouraging hand on his back.

“Ichabod is an industrious spirit, he’ll be fine.” She advised.

Gideon breathed a small sigh of relief. “You are as wise as you are beautiful my love, he shall be fine.” He agreed.

“Impossible.” The young man said sitting forward alarmed. He and his counterpart’s eyes expanded to grand sizes. “Sir. I’ve never seen anything like it my instructor informed me that this was an impossibility and still.” The man slid his chair back from the screen mapping Ichabod’s memories. It was clear, except a tiny little morsel remaining in its’ center. Abigail.

“Dear God.” Gideon exclaimed, “There shall be nothing imparted to his soul if he passes through again, he shall be thrown into the world blind.”

“Sir, perhaps we should just leave her there.” The woman suggested.

“We cannot, her memory will plague him, he’ll be thrown too far off course.” Turine argued.

“True, he will never know a moments rest, it will forever change who he is.” Gideon agreed. “But if we pass him through again what shall be left of his course.” Gideon sighed, either way things had just become intrinsically more difficult. He made the decision he hoped would be less damaging to the mission. Pass him through once more.” He ordered, as he stepped beside the pod, and rested his hand against it.   “Ichabod, my dear boy, let her go. Let her go.” He added. Ichabod was passed through one final time, and Abigail disappeared from his memory.

The witnesses sat in the room, still joining hands, while deep in a trance like state. They were overwhelmed as their subconscious continued making them privy to a host of other things that had occurred in each other’s lives up until the moment of their meeting. It was a little like watching a movie, except you seen with a part of you that wasn’t your eyes, and it wasn’t sequential, but rather happening all at once. The meaningful memories were displayed more profoundly, others lay tucked away and required a little searching, but all was there from their first meeting in the past world, until their meeting in this one. Abbie was able to see what she couldn’t remember when she and Jenny saw Moloch in the woods. How Moloch tried to take her then, but Turine came, and battled against him, turning him back to purgatory. She paid the price with her life.

Tears filled Abbie’s eyes the moment they broke from the trance. They looked around the small empty room.

“Tur, Turine.” She cried. Ichabod still reeling from everything they’d just discovered, pulled her to his lap, and curled his arms around her.

“Abigail.” He closed his eyes pressing kisses to her head. “My heart.” He fixed his arms tighter around her gripping the tips of her locks. He knew that there was nothing he could say that would make it hurt any less. She pulled back drying her eyes.

“They’ve been here this whole time.” She said softly.

“Yes.” He breathed still taken aback. The amount of information transferred to them happened in mere minutes, but so much had been disbursed, if felt as though they were a world away from where they started.

“You should go talk to him.” Abbie stated looking towards the door. The look on his face let her know that he didn’t want to leave her, but she promised him that she was alright.

“Go.” She urged. “Anyhow I could…,” she slowly shook her head. “I could use a minute, I’ll be out in a few I promise.”

“Are you certain?” He asked taking her hands in his.

“Yeah.” She nodded. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, rose and left the room. After searching the house he spotted the old man outside standing in front of the creek. He never turned around as Ichabod drew nearer, even though the witness was certain that he’d heard him approaching.

“Gideon.” Ichabod said through tearful eyes. It was only then that the man they had come to know as Bob turned around to face him.

“My boy.” He said pulling Ichabod into a heartfelt embrace. The two men stood talking reveling in being reunited, as Abbie came out to join them. Gideon arms swallowed her up the moment she was within reach.

“I’m sorry.” She said after he released her. “About Turine.” While they were in their trance she’d discovered that her matron from the other world, was also the ghost she’d encountered the last time she was here. It crushed Abbie to know that she had given her mortal life to save her, but she came away with a feeling of renewed determination. Moloch’s days were numbered. The pair sat and had dinner with Gideon mulling over old times, until the night closed in. He told them how proud he was of them for finding each other, and waging the battle that he couldn’t help but feel that he and Turine had caused. It wasn’t expressly spoken, but inferred, and they understood that Seamus and other members of his mortal family were not to be made aware of his spiritual life.

  

* * *

 

By the time the couple made it across their threshold it was a full five hours later. Abbie dropped her purse on the kitchen table, and collapsed into a chair to alleviate her feeling of exhaustion. Ichabod went to the refrigerator to retrieve her medicine while she slipped out of her jacket.

“I feel better, I’m fine.” She stated.

“I believe you are recovered as well, however…”

“However what?” She asked with an edge of annoyance in her voice.

His lips opened slightly at her ill tone, but he tried his best to hide the way it affected him. “However, your primary care practitioner directed you to consume your prescribed dosage until the entire contents were emptied. Therefore…”

“You know what spare me the long speech, just give it to me.” She snapped. Ichabod looked down at her and slowly shook his head, but decided to bite his tongue. He handed her the small vial. As soon as she took it she stood up from the table.

“Okay, I’m going to grab a shower, and hit the sack.” She started to walk away, but felt his hand catch hold of her arm.

“Abbie.” She didn’t answer.

“What is it?” When she didn’t respond he continued speaking to what he felt was the most plausible explanation for her downcast mood. “I know it hurts, but keep faith, we will avenge Turine.”

“I know that, and she’s at peace, still watching over us all. I know that.” She repeated.

“Then…what is it?” He asked again. Abbie stretched her hands around the back of her neck, bending into a deep stretch.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had a looong, long day. I found out that I knew my husband, long before we ever met—on earth at least. I learned that said husband has been interfering in my career, and on top of all of that, he’s secretly a millionaire. I think _I deserve_ to just take a shower, and go to bed.” Abbie stepped around him brushing past his side as she headed for the stairs.

Ichabod set a glass on the counter and tossed a few ice cubes inside of it. He filled it with a few fingers of whiskey and threw it back. He repeated the process once more and placed the glass in the sink. It had proved to be a rather long day for both of them.     

Abbie was just slipping into her robe and heading to the shower when she heard him coming up the stairs.

“And what of me?” He asked entering the bedroom. “I have only just had my own suspicions confirmed, that I have loved you from the moment I first lay eyes upon you.   And now all I want to do is be with you, and you are pulling away. Your silence in the vehicle, when I did manage to persuade you to engage in conversation, I was only rewarded with one word answers. You were aloof in the kitchen. So...” He said slightly raising his voice. “Is this what _I_ deserve? To be treated so poorly, with no cause.”

“No cause?! She asked walking over to him. “No cause?” She let go of a mirthless laugh. “You know what skip the shower, I’m just going to bed.”

Ichabod sat on the bench at the foot of their bed removing his pants and socks. “Of course because the suspension of conscious thought for the next seven or eight hours will cause all of your troubles to magically disappear.” The anger in Abbie’s chest caused a sudden surge in her energy, she felt her exhaustion rapidly evaporating. There was a reason for her level headedness, it had always served a purpose. When she became angry, a large part of rationality went out the door, so she pushed off irritations and other emotions that could lead to ill temperament.  

“God, why do we have to _do_ this?” She yelled, throwing her hands up at her sides. “I don’t want to fight with you, I don’t want to be angry with you, or feel this way. I’m trying to go to bed in the hopes that tomorrow I won’t, okay.” Abbie folded her arms across her chest as he moved closer. She was never quite prepared for how alarmingly sexy he looked in his boxer briefs. It would have been easier if they were black, the black ones went a long way in camouflaging his package, but tonight he was wearing gray ones, and they left very little to the imagination.

“No, it is most certainly not _okay_ , because I am utterly unaware of anything that I have done to warrant such treatment, and yet you deem me unworthy of enlightenment. How can I repair the damage that has been done, or avoid causing more, if you will not so much as share with me what caused it to begin with?”

“Lies, for one, _your_ lies are a big part of the reason I feel this way right now.” She charged.

“Lies?!” He said looking at her as if she’d just told him the earth was flat. “Surely you are mistaken, I have, at all times, remained truthful to you.

“Really?” She asked as her hands subconsciously fell to her hips. She closed her mouth over a joyless chuckle. “You know what, I can’t even blame you, hell, tell me anything, I think it’s well established that I”LL BELIEVE YOU!” She shouted.  

Ichabod threw his armful of clothes into the hamper, and slammed it shut as if all of his troubles lived inside of it. He was quickly becoming fed up with Abbie’s attitude, throughout their marriage he had been an open book for her, telling her anything and everything she wanted to know.

“If you are going to make ridiculous accusations you should, at the very least, have the courage to offer factual information in support of them.”

“Oh you want to talk facts? Let’s do it. Fact number one, you sat in this very room and told me…” Abbie bit her bottom lip trying to find a way to say how she felt without sounding like a jealous maniac. “When I asked you if there were many women, you made me believe that there wasn’t.”

“Many women?! He repeated finding a seat on the edge of the bed. “You’re speaking of the night of Captain Irving’s birthday festivities.” He said thoughtfully starting to understand what had gone so horribly wrong. Though in trance their entire lives were bared there for the other to see, Ichabod had avoided the parts that involved Abbie with other men, he was certain that she had done the same. He pushed himself off of the bed. “How could you?”

“How could _I_?” She asked through squinted eyes. “So wait a minute, I’m the bad guy. I find out the reason you fuck like a champion, is because you’ve literally spent years fucking like a champion, and it’s _my_ fault. I can’t, I’m done with this.”

He blocked her path letting her know that escaping from this conversation wasn’t going to be that easy. “I never lied, what I said was it would depend upon what you consider to be many women.”

Abbie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Who wouldn’t consider that to be many, Ichabod? But hey how could anyone expect you to keep count considering you were moving through them TWO AT A TIME!”

“Oh give it a rest Abbie that was a singular occurrence.” His fingers bent and straightened along his side, as his eye’s fell to the floor. He lifted his gaze to her. “I feel as though you have breached my privacy, I would never have done such to you. And if for some insane reason I actually wanted to tear my heart to shreds by watching you _fuck_ other men, I would at least have the decency to suffer in silence. But what you are doing…I would never make you feel the way you have made me to feel. Like I am dirty or…”

“—I know that, that’s why I tried to just come up, get some shut eye, and start fresh in the morning, but you wouldn’t leave it alone. I’m sorry you feel like your privacy has been infringed upon, it’s not like I wanted to see any of that, but I couldn’t look away. You tell me every day how much you love me, how special I am to you…but seeing that made me feel like, I’m not. I mean…you were with all of those women, and then…” Abbie sighed finally convincing herself to stop speaking.

“Then what.” He asked.

“Then you married someone, and…I know that I knew all about it going in, but somehow after knowing everything I know now, it feels different. I guess I’m a little jealous that you were able to move on in that way, and somehow I couldn’t. Because I dreamed of you, and I just couldn’t.” He moved toward her intent on holding her but her step backward, and arms locked in front of her chest let him know that she wasn’t ready.

“I was searching for something. Back then it only felt as though I was chasing a feeling, a happiness that I could never fully capture. Some of the women I kept time with grew attached, and became hurt when I did not share the same sentiment…so I limited the frequency with which I spent time with them, but I still had this yearning, so I sought more women, the type who were less prone to growing attached. Surely you could see that it was only for a time, that I cut myself off from that sort of comfort completely when I realized I would never find that feeling I was so desperately seeking. That feeling is the way that I felt when I was with you. I still felt the longing for it with Katrina, but it was less than when I was with anyone else…and then things started to feel normal.”

Abbie fought to repress a burgeoning of tears she felt raising to the surface of her eyes. “I’m glad that you had that, that rest, I never did.” She stated quietly.

“I passed through the decharger three times Abigail. Three times.” He said holding up three fingers to demarcate each one. “And somehow your memory still woke me from my sleep. Does that count for nothing? Tell me, since you have seen it all…is there another woman that I have loved the way I love you?” His voice lowered as he came closer. “That I have touched, in the way, I touch you?”

Abbie hung her head, as his hands eased around her hips.

“Was there?” He asked again, lifting her chin.

She shook her head from side to side, not trusting the steadiness of her voice.  

“And there never will be…I promise. Abbie let her head rest against his fingers as he cuffed his hands around her cheeks. And then his lips were on her forehead, as if he somehow knew the magic of that feeling made everything alright. He leaned back and held his palm up in front of her.

“Friends.” Abbie’s lips curled into the tiniest smidgeon of a smile as she raised her palm to her husbands.

“Always.”

“You are everything to me.” He swore. “Our life together means everything to me, never question that.” Her arms folding around him, let him know that the argument had come to a close. This wasn’t a time for talking, he needed to show her how much she meant to him. He took her by the hand quietly leading her to their bathroom. She watched as he prepared her bathwater, holding his fingers beneath the running faucet bringing it to the perfect steamy temperature, before adding a drop of her favorite body wash. He then retrieved a stretchy hair band from the cabinet and stood behind her, gathering her curls up into a high bun, the way he’d seen her do many times before. His fingers slipped down the front of her robe easily unknotting it, and he stood gazing at her naked form long after he’d pushed her robe back from her shoulders and watched it pool around her feet. By the time he slipped out of his boxers he was fully erect, but this wasn’t about him. He bathed her, slowly, and thoroughly lathering up and rinsing clean every inch of her body. When he’d finished drying himself he lifted her from the tub and ran the soft cotton dry towel over her frame, sopping up the excess moisture. He carried her to their bed and placed her over the sheets, before ducking back into the bathroom, only to return with her moisturizing lotion. Abbie sighed and moaned as he took great care, and time massaging the creamy substance into her semi damp skin. He’d wanted her so many times throughout the entire ordeal, but he pushed down his desire and thought only of hers. When he finally finished rubbing her down, Ichabod crawled over her, and made love to his wife slower than he ever had. His every movement conveying how much he’d missed her while she was ill. And he had missed everything, from falling asleep with her in his arms at night, or waking up with her wrapped in them in the morning, to the way she called his name just before she came.   Later that night he coiled his naked form around hers as he drifted off to the most peaceful sleep he’d had in weeks.    

Nothing could have ever prepared him for the hell he woke to.

“Abbie!” He screamed. Feeling his wife ripped from his arms. He struggled to move, but couldn’t quite understand why he couldn’t get up. He looked down noticing there was an encrypted strap of cloth covering his body. At the foot of the bed there were two demons working to secure a second bondage over his feet. He tried to summon his light, but to no avail. The more he tried he began to realize that it must have been something coded inside of the fabric, a binding spell preventing his movements. He went into a panic once again hearing Abbie’s muffled screams, he looked over at her and noticed the fabric around her wrist held an encryption similar to his.

“Abbie go. Jump now.” He yelled. When she shook her head, he knew for certain that the spell was directed at keeping them from being able to use their powers. Ichabod’s eyes stretched as The Headless Horseman appeared in the doorway. The large demon quickly clunked through the room removing his jacket and wrapping it around Abbie’s naked body. After that he lifted her, throwing her over his shoulder, and took off. Ichabod’s entire body literally lit up with fury.

“NO!” He screamed. The demons who were busy trying to finish binding him looked at one another in alarm realizing that the spell wasn’t holding. His light burst free ripping away the straps of fabric, in mere moments he had cut down both of the demons, and sprinted down the stairs in search of Abbie. He made it to the darkened street in just enough time to see the Horseman’s horse fading out in the distance. He quickly raced back into the house ripping through a basket of laundry he’d been folding earlier, and grabbed the first pair of pants he found. He was dressed, in his car and calling Jenny inside of two minutes, informing her about what had happened, so she could meet him in the archives. The entire way there he couldn’t stop seeing the moment he removed Abbie’s necklace during her bath, how had he ever forgotten to put it back on.  

It was dark and foggy, but Abbie took in her surroundings committing as much of it to memory as she possibly could. She rode along with her hands bound in front of her, the Horseman sat behind her gripping her tightly. He wasn’t at the beginning of the ride, but started after the second time she tried to escape. Still, she had managed to rip tiny pieces of red fabric from his jacket, and drop them along the way. She knew her husband, if anyone could see them, he would. They had trudged through the woods for what felt like nearly a few hours until the came upon a home right in the middle of nowhere. After dismounting he reached up pulling her from the horse. As soon as her feet touched the ground she made a run for it, but her hands being bound coupled with the pain of the jagged stone digging into her soles, caused her to move far too slowly to escape. The Horseman, easily caught her, once again throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her the rest of the distance to the home. Abbie looked around the dusty room, instinctively looking for fixtures or items that could be used as a weapon. She heard him moving behind her, so she turned to face him and couldn’t believe her eyes. Somehow, in this place, his head was visible to her, and for the first time she saw the face of the man that Ichabod had once counted a friend. The monster that had murdered her mentor. He grabbed her, seating her in a chair, and bound her to it by the ankles.

“Stop struggling. I am doing you a great service.” Abraham said. “Moloch will love you so very much more than Ichabod ever could.”

Abbie’s squeezed her eyes shut trying to will away the thought. Abraham stood and began fiddling about on the other side of the kitchen. He returned carrying a plate of bread, and a cup of tea.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, removing the tie wrapped around her mouth. Abbie glared at him, with all of the animosity she felt coursing through her veins.

“Very well.” He frowned pushing the food back. He started to re-tie her gag, but his eyes briefly fell down her body, realizing that the curve of her breast was exposed. Abbie’s heart sped up from fear, as she became aware of him observing her. He abruptly pulled his head back as soon as he realized what he was doing. Abbie didn’t exhale until he turned and left the room.

When he returned he held an old colonial style gown. He helped her to her feet, unbinding her hands in the process. As soon as her hands were freed she clasped them together trying to jump the realm, but for some reason it wasn’t working.

“You are wasting your time, the same magic that is embedded in this fabric binds this entire place.” He said tossing the cloth across the table. He followed her eyes to the steaming cup of hot tea on the table and pushed it out of her reach.

“My coat.” He said holding the dress out.

Abbie looked at him like he was out of his mind. He’d already seen more of her than she wanted him to, and she hand no intention of undressing in front of him.

“Rest easy Miss. Mills, my heart beats for another.” He meant it, Abraham had been in love with Katrina from the moment he’d made her acquaintance, at the same time Abigail’s beauty wasn’t lost on him. It had been so very long since he had enjoyed the comforts of a woman, to say that he didn’t’ feel a certain ripple of excitement from her presence would be a falsehood. He turned his eyes away from her to show her that he meant no harm.

“It’s not your heart I’m worried about. Besides you mean your heart once beat for another, and then you sold your soul to Moloch, now it doesn’t beat at all.” The dress he was holding fell to the table as his large hand engulfed hers and pressed it firmly to his chest.

“On the contrary.” Abbie, still caught off guard by his rapid movements could feel the strong steady beat of his heart under her flattened palm. She ripped her hand away, and glared up at him. He picked the dress up from the table and offered it to her again. Keeping her eyes on him to ensure he didn’t try to peek she hurriedly slipped out of his jacket and into the dress. It was too long, and bunched up around her feet but it was still better than his jacket.

“Better?” He asked.

“Go to hell.” She responded.

“Why go, when I can bring it here.” Abraham smiled. He sat down at the table and began eating the bread Abbie had turned down. Abraham looked across the table at the small woman and couldn’t help but admire her perseverance, he’d only captured her a few hours ago and already she’d made a number of attempts at escaping, and upon his life for that matter. If she was frightened she was doing one hell of a job hiding it. He wouldn’t be able to rest in her presence, she was far craftier than he had realized, any slip up, and she would escape. Moloch was set to arrive in a few days time, so they would have to hold up here until he did. Abbie’s mind drifted to Ichabod, she knew that he must have been sick with worry. She was going to kill the Horseman, and then she was going to kill Moloch, she didn’t know how just yet, but she was certain that she was going to. If for nothing more than the fact that they drove her husband to run out of the house after her, asshole naked, while screaming at the top of his lungs. There was no way her neighbors didn’t hear that mess, Ms. Jacob’s from across the street probably finally got the look at Ichabod that she’d been trying for all of these months. She’d come over in far too flimsy a blouse asking if she could “Borrow that wonderful husband of yours, my garbage disposal is acting up again, and I was wondering if he could have a look at it.” The last time he fixed it, she had come to ask him when Abbie wasn’t home, and Abbie was certain she thought that she wasn’t home that day either, seeing as Ichabod had taken her car, and his set in the driveway. Her face cracked at least three times when Abbie opened the door, and another three times when Abbie explained that her husband wasn’t home, but she’d be happy to fix her garbage disposal for her.

Abbie willed herself to remain focused, she didn’t have time to be concerned about neighborhood gossip, and frivolous matters, she had to figure a way out of here. A few hours later Abraham heard a soft voice break the silence.

“I have to use the bathroom.”

Abbie bucked her eyes when he looked at her as if he had never heard of a bathroom. “I have to use the bathroom, now.” She repeated.

Abraham stood over her, looking back in forth between her, and the restroom as if he hadn’t considered the fact that she would eventually need to use it. He kneeled to unbind her ankles. “I am warning you. Do not attempt to escape, or you shall find yourself in far more constrictive bondages.” He threatened. There was hopefulness in Abbie’s spirits as she walked the short distance to the bathroom, it died when the door opened and she realized that it was without windows. Abraham stood in the center of the room staring at her.

“I’m not doing this with you in here.” She stated.

He took a step forward. “Well then you will not do it at all, because I have no intention of leaving you unattended.” Abbie frowned up at him, as she felt the urge to pee building to epic proportions.

“Fine. Turn around.” She conceded. Abraham did a quick surveillance of everything within her reach and decided that there was nothing she could use to harm him. He turned around waiting for the sound of her to finish. He heard the sound of her urination cease, followed by the noise of her standing and fixing her clothes and decided it was clear to turn around. As soon as he did, he was met with the top of the toilet tank clanking against the side of his head. He fell back into the wall as she ran past him. She made it as far as the grass this time, but it still wasn’t far enough for her powers to be effective.   Once again she found herself upside down over his shoulder, bouncing along as he walked her back to the house. This time he took her to a bedroom, closing the door behind him and throwing her to the mattress, she tried to get up, but he pushed her back down, withstanding her blows as he struggled to tie her hands to the headboard.

He stood over her once her restraints were secure. “Sleep.”

_He’s insane,_ she thought, _how can anyone rest in captivity?_ But as the hours trickled by, she felt herself growing sleepy. She focused her attention on the window on the right side of the room, plotting ways in which she could get to the other side of it, and the next thing she remembered was waking up. The hours seemed to pass slowly, she spent most of them thinking about her family, and friends how she couldn’t let the world down. By nightfall Abraham had grown weary of her refusal to eat, she would need her strength for the coming days. Abbie pulled herself up against the headboard as he entered the room carrying a tray of food.

“I told you I’m not hungry.” She protested. Abraham sat the tray down on the nightstand, picked up one of the rolls and broke it in half. He ate the first to show her that it was not tainted or meant to harm her. He pried her mouth open forcing the bits of bread inside of it, only to watch her push them back out with her tongue. But he noticed something. Her eyes looked at the tray and continuously went back to the glass of water he’d placed on it.

“You’re parched. Drink.” He stated holding the glass to her mouth. Abbie shook her head violently, burning turning as far from the water as she could manage. Abraham couldn’t understand it, clearly she desired a drink of water. Suddenly it dawned on him what she was afraid of. He’d heard stories of souls who’d passed through purgatory, and became trapped because of eating, or even drinking the fruits thereof.

“This place is not purgatory, we are still very much on earth Miss Mills, drink.” He said offering the glass again. Abbie gave no indication that she heard anything he was saying. She was becoming adept at blocking everything out.

“Miss Mills, purgatory is a place of temptation. The bounds of that realm play upon your desires in an effort to get you to succumb to them, and thus remain forever trapped. To think that this place, with me is your own personal purgatory would indicate that on some level you desire to be imprisoned alone, in a secluded room…with me. Why Miss Mills,” he leaned in bearing a flirtatious grin, “perhaps you are in purgatory after all.”

He watched as a smallest whimsical grin begin to develop across her lips. Soon after her shoulders began to shake and her head fell back against the headboard. It wasn’t long before she was laughing so hard that she was gasping for breath. Abraham’s face softened as he watched her. A feeling began to weigh heavily upon Abraham, a sudden twinge of discomfort he felt rising within him. Something was wrong here, horribly wrong. He knew this feeling, he couldn’t recall it perfectly, but he knew that he shouldn’t be having it, that he somehow wasn’t allowed to. The naming of it stayed just out of his reach until finally he had it, it was happiness. He felt…happiness. After years of not feeling any at all, he’d felt it twice now inside of a month. After her laughter died, he held the glass to her mouth again. This time she took it.

_God is she fair,_ he thought, looking on as she took a sip of water. Ichabod was nothing more than a leasing-monger, and a bedswerver, but he had impeccable taste in women.   She was smart, courageous, beautiful, and she held a healthy sense of humor, surely she was far too good for Ichabod Crane.      

“You will see, Lord Moloch will love you far more than Ichabod ever could, you will be his queen and you and I both shall rule alongside him. You will give birth to his heir, and ready the world for its new order, its rightful order. Abbie’s face filled with disgust.

“Let me tell you something, _Moloch_ is a master manipulator, he doesn’t care about me or you or anyone else. He will say, and promise whatever he needs to in order to further his cause. Do you honestly believe he’s going to be loyal to his word, or share his power, come on.” Abraham slammed the glass down on the nightstand.

“Do NOT speak to me about disloyalty when you are in allegiance with the most disloyal man I have ever known. The only master manipulator in this entire equation is Ichabod Crane, and he shall pay a grave toll for his betrayals. Abbie noticed the way Abraham’s vein in the center of his forehead bulged out when he spoke about her husband, his hatred for him was palpable.

“Don’t you think you’ve taken this vendetta far enough, or better yet don’t you think it’s taken _you_ far enough. People can’t choose who they fall in love with. I get it, it sucks, your best friend and your fiancé fell in love, that doesn’t give you the right to align yourself with the forces of darkness and go on a killing spree, I mean who _does_ that. You could have moved on, you could have had a _life_ , now what do you have.”

“Is that what he’s told you, that he just happened to fall in love with the woman his closest friend and ally was set to marry? Your lover is far more devious and calculating than you can ever hope to imagine. What he did was purposeful and self-serving, and to answer your question _Miss Mills_ I shall have my revenge, and the wife that I should have had all along.”    

Abbie sat forward realizing that he had no idea Katrina had been killed, by Moloch nonetheless. “Hold on, is that what he promised you, some sort of a reconciliation with Katrina? An element of surprise filled her voice.

“I am to re-gain all that Ichabod stole from me, everything I would have had, had I never lay eyes upon him.” Abbie could hear the spite dripping from his tongue.

“Moloch is lying to you.”

Abraham gathered the cloth used to gag Abbie into his hands. “I reasoned that we would be able to share words, I see now that my reasoning was flawed, you will remain silenced until Moloch arrives.”

“Wait, wait, I know it for a fact, Abraham...Katrina….” she sighed. “Katrina is dead.”

“LIES!” He shouted. “I have grown bored of your lies, and useless fabrications Miss Mills.” He stated standing to apply the gag.

“Moloch killed her,” she said slowly. “I saw it with my own eyes.”

Abraham stared down at the small woman wanting to believe her words were lies and deception, but there was something in the way she said them. With a sincere and somber manner that it almost seemed as though she were remembering the act occurring as she spoke of it.

“It cannot be, she is to be mine, it cannot be.” Abbie swore she could see all the fires of hell burning through his eyes. What had she done, the only reason she was alive right now was because he was supposed to deliver her to Moloch, what if he retaliated by killing her. She needed to convince him that the way to hurt Moloch the most was to let her go free.

“Abraham.” She spoke softly. “What happened to you was out of your control. Those forces played upon your emotions at your most vulnerable moment. You are right, none of this would’ve happened to you if you hadn’t known Ichabod, but because you did, because you were the closest thing he ever had to a brother, Moloch sought to drive a wedge between you. He did the same thing to me and my sister. Only Jenny fought, and it was hard, and it was long, but she won, you can fight him too.    

“No. No. You are a LIAR.” He screamed only inches from her face.

“I’m not, I swear!” Just then the sound of hoofs outside turned their eyes to the window. A wicked smile spread across Abrahams face.

“Lord Moloch arrives. We shall see about your accusations.” When Abraham opened the door he was surprised to find The Insidious Four, instead of Moloch. The four demons were Moloch’s most fearsome disciples aside from Abraham. Abbie and Ichabod had never encountered them in battle, but always knew that the day they did it would be a furious fight. The demons, all cloaked in hooded black robes made their way into the cabin, the red eyes peeking about the room.

Abbie could tell that the Horseman was clearly displeased. “Where is Lord Moloch?” He asked coldly.

“Lord Moloch is attending to other matters, we have been sent to retrieve his bride.” The smallest one said in a low scratchy voice.

“And what of the bride he has promised to me?” Abraham asked moving in between them and Abbie.

The demons looked at each other before the smaller one spoke again. “I’ve heard nothing of it, however our Lord Moloch has a bevy of brides from which you may choose. Abraham’s eyes found Abbie’s and she knew immediately that he realized she was telling him the truth. He slowly walked over to the window, and pulled back the curtain, showing her that it was open.

The largest of the demons walked over to Abbie and ghosted his long pointy nail across her bosom.   “Our Lord has certainly chosen wisely, perhaps he won’t mind if I have a little sample before handing her over.” He snarled.

“Of course he will, she is to bring forth his heir. How can she do that if yours reaches her womb first?” Abraham answered.

“Oh, there are ways in which that can be avoided.” The red eyed demon laughed, causing those with him to fall into laughter as well. A venomous glare poured from Abrahams eyes, while the demons were busy laughing, he’d wrapped his hands around his axe.

“I do not want a bevy of brides, I want the bride that I was promised. When I get her, he shall have his.” Abraham roared.   Abbie leaned down as the blade of his weapon collided with the headboard severing her restraints. He lifted her instantly throwing her to the side of him as he began warring with the demons.

“RUN!” Abraham yelled, but Abbie was already three steps ahead of him. She was out of the window, with her feet moving rapidly over the sharp rocks in seconds. She worked at unbinding her wrist, as she ran into the night. She kept her head down, knowing full well she was running for her life.   She looked behind her only to see the largest of the demons racing after her and knew she would have to stand and fight. She was weaponless, and barefoot, not ideal conditions for fighting, but she had no choice. Her hands balled into fists as the growling demon advanced. He lunged at her, but she evaded his grasp, and landed two quick blows to his abdomen. He came for her again but she quickly stepped around him, jumped on his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. The demon choked and spit, thrashing about to try to get her to release. Finally he reached behind him grabbed her by the hair and flipped her off of him. She felt every inch of the hard ground absorbing through her body as she struggled to find air. She looked up to find him standing over her with a menacing grin. And then that same grin was floating through the air as his lifeless body fell to the ground. The horseman loomed over her body returning his broad axe to his side. His reached his hand out to her and pulled her up from the ground.

“Thanks.” She gasped. “Abraham, just let me go, you have a chance to do the right thing. It won’t undo everything you’ve done, but it’s a start.”

“I cannot.” He replied looking down at her.

“What more proof do you need, he probably never had intentions of giving her to you, he is pure evil.” Abbie argued.

“I agree. That is why I cannot allow you to go free. I need your help.”

“You need my help, for what?” Abbie asked pointedly.

“Killing Moloch.”

Abraham scowled looking off at the tree line, having heard the sound of horses just beyond it. Moloch, he’s sent reinforcements, we must leave at once.”

“Reinforcement’s, how could he have known?” She asked, uncertain how Moloch or anyone could have foreseen the Horseman coming to her aid.

“They are not for us, they are for Ichabod, Moloch knew that he would be searching for you. We have to leave, now.”

Abbie followed his eyes toward the trees just in time to see the nose of a horse peeking through them. But the man on top of the horse wasn’t Moloch’s, he was hers. Ichabod, and Jenny sped up their horses as they saw Abbie standing next to her captor. Ichabod jumped off of his horse charging the Horseman with mounds of fury before Abbie had a chance to stop him.

“Ichabod, NO!” Abbie yelled as the two men engaged in battle. Jenny pulled an old scroll from her satchel and began reading an incantation written across it. She and Ichabod had researched the spell from the bondage they’d attempted to bind him with and found a way to undo it. As it turned out Ichabod didn’t seem to need his light energy as his rage helped him to hold his own with the Horseman quite nicely. But once the incantation was completed Abraham was at his mercy, and unfortunately for him Ichabod had none. Ichabod dropped his sword drawing his illuminated fists together and pounded his adversary in brutal punishing fashion. Abbie knew he had blanked out, ignoring her pleas to stop, and the weight of her arms pulling at his back.

“ICHABOD PLEASE!” She shouted. Realizing she wouldn’t be able to pull him off, Abbie did the only thing she could think of and threw her body over Abrahams, in between blows.

“Abbie!” He yelled in a breathless tone. “What are you doing? Why are you protecting this, this monster?” He snapped. She didn’t have a good answer. He had done terrible, despicable things, paramount for her was killing Corbin. But ironically it was Corbin that led her to want to help him. She wondered, what would have become of Jenny had she succumb when Moloch preyed upon her in her weakest moment. What if she’d done the same thing, but then by some miracle wanted a chance at redemption. Would she have gotten it?  Corbin was one who was big on redemption, the entire town had written her and Jenny off, but not him. She was just trying to be that for someone else, even a monster. This war was never about Abraham, but as always those closest to the witnesses seemed to suffer the most.  

“He wants to help.” She said looking up at her husband. Ichabod’s nostrils seemed to flare half the width of his face.

“By kidnapping you, by dragging you naked and screaming FROM OUR HOME.” Ichabod barked kicking Abraham in the ribs. “NO, he will _die_ for what he’s done.” Abbie stood in front of her husband, as Abraham slid a few paces away clutching his side.

Ichabod felt tears filling his eye’s as his wife’s tiny hands pressed against the sides of his cheeks. She was safe, she was alive and in front of him. He trembled under the touch of her hand, it was a feeling that just hours before he’d worried that he would never feel again.

“Baby I’m okay. Look at me.” She said taking his bloodied hands in hers. “I’m okay….I’m right here.” She whispered. “I’m right here.”

Ichabod fought back tears as he pulled her into his arms, pressing his nose against her hair to inhale her scent. It was only then that he took his first real breath since she had been taken away.

“I was so afraid…I was so afraid.” He whispered.

“You guys, I hate to interrupt this reunion but we’ve got company.” Jenny said looking off to a horde of Moloch’s disciples approaching.

Abraham pulled himself to his feet, and lifted his axe.

“Jenny, weapon.” Abbie called causing her sister to toss her a gun. She pulled back the handle, and waited for the minions to get close enough to fire.

Six hours later the battle weary troops sat in Abbie’s kitchen pressing ice packs to various parts of their bodies. Jenny had gotten the worst of it, somehow managing to twist her ankle. She had fallen to the ground, and in no time the demon she was fighting was over her trying to choke the life from her. Her emergency side arm normally would have sent his eyes through the back of his skull, but it jammed. Abbie watched from the other side of the field paralyzed with terror knowing that there was no way to get there in time. It all happened in slow motion.

“MISS JENNY!” She heard Ichabod scream, side-stepping assailants, charging toward her sister as fast as he could. Abbie knew he wouldn’t make it in time either. Her limbs went limp as her eyes fixed upon the demon holding his blade above Jenny’s head. Then she saw the Horseman’s axe slicing through the attacker’s side. He pulled Jenny up and helped her to safety.

It was quiet in the kitchen. Their eye’s roamed about casting curious or mysterious glances at one another, however some looks were not so mysterious at all. Ichabod and Abraham glared at each other with pure hatred, and Abbie and Jenny begin to worry that they might resume fighting at any moment. Abraham couldn’t stop thinking about how Ichabod had spent entire summers at his father’s estate during their boyhood, only to double cross him years later. Ichabod on the other hand, was replaying a continuous loop of Abraham, dragging Abbie from their home. He had saved Miss Jenny, and apparently Abbie, but neither of them would have been in danger in the first place, if not for him. He wanted him dead. Abraham’s fingers tightened around the bottom of the chair as he glowered at Ichabod. Abbie having already helped her husband, and Jenny with their bandages came over to help Abraham with a wound on his chest. He slipped out of his shirt so she could have better access to the wound, and noticed how her assistance seemed to pain Ichabod. The warm satisfaction he felt curled the corners of his mouth into a braggadocios smile he aimed directly at his enemy. Ichabod’s breaking point was when Abbie leaned forward to seal the bandage and Abraham slyly chased the tendrils of her hair with his nose, cockily, breathing in her sent.

“That’s quite enough Abbie, he is well.” Ichabod said rising to his feet.

The bare chested Abraham rested his hands behind his head, and spread his legs out. “Oh Ichabod, what seems to be the bother.”

“Mr. Van Brunt perhaps it’s best if we discuss the matter outside.” Ichabod challenged. Abraham shot up from his seat.

“Perhaps we should.” He growled.

“No, baby, you promised, remember.” Abbie set the first aid kit down and stepped between them.

“Unfortunately Miss Mills, Ichabod has a rather lengthy record of breaking promises.” Abraham stated still eyeballing Ichabod. “If I were you I’d be weary of anything he says.” Ichabod lunged at him, but was cut off by Abbie.

“Abraham stop.” She warned sternly.

“I am going to wipe that grin clean off of your face, you pompous, incorrigible, ass.” Ichabod said tightening his fists.

“Oh, I do not doubt it, your fay lights have made you quite formidable, but nonetheless you shall have a _worthy_ battle.” Abraham spit back over Abbie’s shoulder.

The bridge of Ichabod’s nose wrinkled, and his brow grew taut as he tried to understand Abraham’s meaning. “Fay?” He repeated curiously, “You think me a fairy?”

A look of surprise grew across Abrahams face. “Are you not. Actually I recently seen a delightful tale of one Peter Pan, it was all about his escapades with his wonderful confidant Wendy, and one of the characters was a fay by the name of Tinkerbelle. Tell me, do you have wings as well, do they sparkle and shimmer as hers?” A wailing laugh rang out from the other side of the room and the three of them turned to find Jenny near tears with laughter. Abbie drew her features together signaling to Jenny that she was only making things worse. Abraham was perplexed he had no idea what she found so funny.

“What you guys don’t get it, it was funny because he thought you had Tinkerbelle wings.” She said through laughter. And because the Headless Horseman, baron of death has been watching Peter fucking Pan.” She cried laughing. “No, no one else thought that was funn-hahahah! What other fairytales have you been watching? Did you try Cinderella?” She howled.

Abraham felt a little embarrassed, but didn’t quite know why, sure he was the Horseman of Death but what did that have to do with his enjoyment of Disney films. What did it matter to anyone else what he did in his spare time.

“No.” he replied. “But I was quite fond of Beauty and the Beast.” He added after a moment.

Jenny was useless after that. She laughed and laughed until she noticed Ichabod storming out of the room.

“Oh hey Icky come on, I didn’t mean anything by it.” She called after him. Abbie followed behind him. She found him in their bedroom, which she’d forgotten was still a mess due to the struggle that had taken place only a few nights before. She stood in the doorway of the bedroom watching as he twisted in front of the mirror trying to get a view of his back. She covered a giggle at the sight of him, but unfortunately he’d heard her.

“Great, pleased I could be a part of your amusement.” He scoffed slipping back into his shirt.

“Baby what are you doing?” She smirked.

“Well what does it look like?” He asked. “Searching for wings, naturally.” He muttered under his breath. One of his favorite sounds in the entire world filled the room, his wife’s laughter, but he still couldn’t believe she was laughing at him. He looked over at her clutching her stomach as if wounded, and could see the joy on her face.

“Abbie.” He pouted.

“Come here.” He looked at her, but remained fixed to the position he was in. She owed him an apology and he wasn’t listening to her or doing anything she said until he got one.

“Come here.” She purred again, holding her arms out. Well maybe just this one thing. He ambled over to her and stepped into her embrace. He looked straight down at her as she raised to her tiptoes to kiss his lips. Her tongue slipped inside of his mouth as she stretched and slithered up against him.   He felt himself growing aroused, and knew that at the moment there was nothing he could do to alleviate the pressure, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to back away. After a few minutes she did.  

“Do you know who you are now?” She asked.

“Yes.” He answered in that sexy little tone he used every now and then. “Who needs wings, when I have you.” She tried to place a quick little peck on his lips but it turned to three long ones. She could never bring herself to kiss him just once. The low growl coming from his chest let her know that they had a limited number of minutes to get out of that room.

“Mmm.” She hummed, swooning over his kiss.

“We need to get back downstairs.” She whispered.

“I hate him.” He said looking toward the direction of the door. “I do not understand how you can simply forget all that he has done.” He added.

“I didn’t.” She admitted. “And I won’t. But we need to finish this thing, and we have a real chance to do it today, there are things he can do to help us. I’m not saying I trust him completely, but I was there when he learned that Katrina died. I think he wants a second chance, he understands the destruction his actions have caused, he wants to set it right.” Abbie stated.

“And what of all those he denied a second chance?” He ran his hand along the fabric of her dress. “Did he…try to..” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it. The thought of anyone hurting his wife that way made his blood boil.

“No.” She whispered kissing his hand. “No. He was…”, a look of surprise covered Abbie’s face, “kind of a gentlemen. Actually he saved me from the demons that threatened to do that to me, so.” Ichabod face broke at hearing his wife’s words, and again at seeing the distant look upon her face when she recounted the story. She told him how they threatened to rape her, and about Moloch’s plan to impregnate her. How she would rather die a thousand gruesome deaths than let that happen. Ichabod desperately tried to figure out a way to stop shaking, but his anger wouldn’t allow it.  

“Moloch shall never see another day.” He promised. If Abraham could help bring him down, Ichabod would be willing to put his anger toward him aside.

A few hours later the foursome sat at the kitchen table finalizing their plans. They were going to shock Moloch by taking the fight to his domain. Purgatory. Abbie was going to jump Ichabod and Abraham in one at a time, and bring them both out after Moloch was killed.

“Okay, so is everyone clear on their task?” Abbie questioned standing at the head of the table.

“Quite.” Ichabod replied.

“You would have made a fine battle commander, Miss Mills.” Abraham added.

Ichabod tilted his head to the side, while glaring at the man across from him. “As I told you once before her name is Mrs. Crane.” Abraham threw his head back, before turning his attention back to Abbie.

“Look the only way we’re going to be able to do this thing is united, you guys, we have to stick together.” She reminded them.

“Bells, I think my ankle’s going to be fine, I’m up for it.” Jenny stated.

“No.” Abbie said folding her arms across her chest. “No way, we can’t risk having your leg give out on you down there. You did your duty earlier today on the battlefield.” Abbie leaned in toward her sister. “I was in awe of you out there, proud doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. Plus, I’m going to need you here, as an anchor, so it’s easier for me to find my way back. Not to mention it’ll be good to have you and Frank on standby in case things don’t go as planned. Speaking of which, where the hell is Frank, he should have been here by now.” She said looking down at her watch.

A few minutes later her question was answered when Frank crept into the kitchen with his gun trained on Abraham. “Move, and I will blow your fucking head off. By the way would someone like to tell me why he has a head?” He asked.

“Frank, it’s cool, put the gun down. He’s here to help.” Jenny informed him. The crew spent a few minutes bringing Frank up to speed on everything that had occurred since they found Abbie, and how they’d performed a spell on the house that allowed all of its inhabitants to see Abraham’s head. It took him a while to wrap his mind around it, but he came around. A few hours later the trio headed out of the door, prepared for battle. Ichabod insisted that he be jumped in first, because he didn’t fully trust Abraham and didn’t want to risk Abbie going there with him alone. Jenny and Irving looked on as they departed.

“Wow. This is some trippy shit.” Frank commented when Abbie reappeared sans the Ichabod.

“Ready.” She asked looking at Abraham. The spell that covered the house didn’t extend to the backyard so once again they couldn’t see his head, but he raised his axe to signal that he was ready for battle.

The trio crept through the depths of purgatory in search of Moloch. They found him precisely where Abraham had advised them they would, at the far east gate waiting for the moon to fall into the proper alignment with the north star so that he enter earth and claim his bride. When he seen the Horseman approaching he praised him.

“You are a fine soldier you have brought me my bride.” He said in his thick accent.

“Yes master, exactly as I said I would when we spoke earlier.”

Moloch jumped down from his horse. “Bring her to me.” Abraham slowly led the apparently bound Abbie to the demon, as she fought and resisted all the way.

“Come.” Moloch implored holding out his hand to her. She grabbed his hand and plunged the blade of Zyrnthia into his chest causing him to be susceptible to destruction for a mere thirty seconds. Abraham raised his axe, and struck a menacing blow removing one of his arms.

“Ichabod NOW! Abbie yelled, and her husband came roaring in all a glow. Ichabod split him in two and the three of them watched Moloch screaming as his body turned to ash. Abbie fell to her knees overcome by the moment. They had lost so much, all of them.

“Is it finally over? Is it really over?” She looked up at Ichabod with tears in her eyes, and he joined her dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around her.

“We’ve done it. We did it.” He said nuzzling his head against hers. After a while he stood, and nodded at Abraham. The men were by no means friends, it was unimaginable that they ever could be again, but in this moment, they could rejoice together.

Abbie jumped Abraham out of purgatory first sensing that he was a little apprehensive about her and Ichabod leaving and never coming back for him. A part of him thought that he deserved to be trapped there for everything he’d done. Still when he was truly under the sway of Moloch he didn’t quite recall all of the brutal crimes he had committed. Most times his only knowledge of them came in the form of dreams, bits and pieces of atrocities he’d perpetrated, things so grotesque that it had seemed as if someone else had done them. He didn’t quite understand how, but a few months back he’d started to feel more like the man than the beast. He began making decisions for himself, and having greater control over his actions. Jenny cried out with joy when she saw her sister return from purgatory.

“Is it done?!” She asked excitedly.

“It’s done.” Abbie answered, through teary eyes, the tip of her nose slightly reddened from all of the emotion she was feeling.

“Oh thank God, thank God.” Jenny cried hugging her sister. Moloch had taken so much from them, their family, a large part of their life. “Wait, where’s Icky?” Jenny asked looking around.

“I’m heading back for him now.” She said curiously looking over at Abraham. “Abraham. I can see your face, even though we’re outside.” A glowing smile covered Abrahams face, in truth he felt different the moment Moloch had been slayed. From the moment he aligned himself with darkness he could feel it, creeping and crawling through his soul. He didn’t feel it anymore.

Abbie walked over to him. “We’re going to have a few drinks tonight to celebrate, you’re welcome to stick around, and join us.” She offered.

“Miss Mills.”

Abbie raised her eyebrows at him. “Mrs. Crane.” She reminded him.

Abraham smiled dismissively. “Well in spite of that…you have been….kind and merciful when I did not deserve it. I am beyond…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say sorry. It seemed like such a small and inappropriate word for all that he had done. It wouldn’t bring her mentor back, or any of the others he had slain while under the sway of Moloch.  

“I know.” Abbie replied. She couldn’t say that she that she forgave him, she didn’t, but she understood a little better how everything happened the way it did. She smiled at him.

“Well I have to get back.” From the look in his eye’s she knew that Abraham wouldn’t be there when she returned. Once back in purgatory, she was surprised that Ichabod wasn’t where she’d left him. Then she remembered something Katrina said long ago. About how she revisited the echo of the church where she’d given Jeremy away all those years ago. Perhaps Ichabod was there saying goodbye to his son.

Just as she suspected she found him standing at the altar. She could tell from where she was standing he was wiping tears away, so she decided to give him a moment to collect himself. After a few minutes she went ove,r and looped her arms around him.

“I love you.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He locked his hand around hers and gave it a squeeze. “I only,” his voice cracked and he paused composing himself before speaking. “I only wish that I would have had a chance to protect him from all of this. He did not deserve this.”

“Of course not.” Abbie breathed softly, trying her hardest to be strong for her husband. She hated seeing him in so much pain. He would have been an excellent father to Jeremy, but Moloch robbed him of that chance.  

“We should go,” He stated. He had done what he came to do, kill Moloch, and say goodbye to his son. There was no sense in hanging around purgatory any longer.

“Okay.” Abbie stated releasing his hand so that she could initiate their jump. She closed her eyes to clear her mind, and focus on the location she wanted to jump to. Suddenly she heard the call of her husband’s name, only she hadn’t said anything. For a moment she thought she was imagining things, so she opened her eyes just to be clear. And there she stood in front of them. She was a ways away from them at the entry to the church, but it was her. Abbie’s mouth hung open as she turned to Ichabod, who’d lost every single drop of the color from his cheeks. His voice was quiet and shaky as he spoke.

“Katrina.”

 

          

 

  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah. (Jay-Z voice) It's about to go down! :-)!


	18. Call Your Girlfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, I hope you like the new chapter. Sorry it took so long, I have given up trying to predict the amount of time I'll have to get things done, because I pretty much suck at it. :-). This chapter was long so I split it into two because its easier for me to edit that way. So the next chapter will be up as soon as I proofread and edit it. If not tonight tomorrow.

 

 

There’s a place in every house where serious discussions are held. Where phones are silenced, eyes are sober, and everyone is open and honest about how they’re truly feeling, and what they really want. That place, for Ichabod and Abbie, was always the kitchen table. For some time Abbie had thought it strange how they continually seemed to end up there, sometimes quite accidentally, delving quickly, and often without warning into life altering discussions. It surprised her how seamlessly they progressed from one topic to another, transitioning quickly from grabbing a snack while discussing a movie they’d just seen, to her being made to defend her decision not to legalize their marriage. Still, some of the most important conversations they had at this table were the ones they engaged in when all of their words had failed them. When chairs were toppled, and food was tossed aside, and clothes were done away with as quickly as humanly possible, even if they had to be ripped, even if there was no hope that they could ever be mended. This table knew them better than most people, if it could talk it could reveal their deepest secrets, worst fears, and brightest hopes. They healed each other here.

Abbie sat focusing on the pattern visible on the surface of the wood, she ran her fingers along the edge recounting all of the intimate discussions they’d had there, the number of times they’d made love on it. She listened to the shrill ring of the tea kettle as her mind shifted to their last encounter. She remembered it vividly, from the way the sunlight dropped over his hair, to the way his breath felt on her skin when he emptied inside of her. They never planned it here, it was always spontaneous and unstructured. One moment they would be loading the dishwasher, and the next her bare breast were pressed against the table. On top of her, beneath her, in front of her, behind her…he had had her every single way she was to be had in this very spot. The quiet sneeze of the the red-head seated across from her reminded her that it wouldn’t end that way tonight.

“Bless you.” She offered.

“Thank you, Miss Mills.” Katrina replied. Abbie looked over at Ichabod who was standing in front of the tea kettle literally waiting for the water to boil. Forty-five minutes ago, she felt like she was on top of the world, it was the briefest of reigns.

They were apprehensive at first, stepping back away from Katrina as she tried to come closer. They couldn’t be blamed really, after all just months before they had watched her die. It wasn’t until she explained to them that it wasn’t her who Moloch killed, that he often used dark magic, and trickery to pervert the truth that their guard started to come down. Her explanations weren’t fully accepted until she repeated some of the things she and Ichabod had said to one another on their wedding night. Things that were so private and intimate in nature that no one else could have reasonably known them. Abbie took a few steps away when Katrina got to the part about what they’d decided upon naming their future children. There was never any illusion about his past, he was always open and honest, but there was still something bothersome about seeing them together that way, hearing him speak about a life that he was fully committed to…a life with another woman.

“Katrina.”   He’d exclaimed, mouth opened, and eyes stretched over her form as if he was seeing her for the first time. He knew in his heart it was her. Abbie looked on as he reached out and eagerly took her into his arms. She found her teeth gently squeezing the corner of her bottom lip as she listened to him mumbling praises to God for her safe return. Katrina started to tell them all that had transpired, but Abbie stopped her, opting to hear the story in a safer location. Yes Moloch had been destroyed, but they were still in purgatory, and there were a lot of dark forces that would have loved to escape. She jumped her out first, which initially seemed like a good idea, but Jenny was so taken aback that she had a gun to Katrina’s head before Abbie could open her eyes.

“Jenny, put the gun down.” Abbie pleaded in a slow, calm tone. Katrina stood frozen, not even daring to breathe.

“I thought she was dead.” Jenny replied never taking her gun or focus off of the redhead.

“As did I, but clearly, she is not. Now put. The gun. Down.” She repeated. Jenny slowly lowered her weapon to her side, and glanced at Irving whose hand was also trailing the weapon on his hip.

“Katrina Crane, this is my sister Jenny Mills, and my boss Captain Frank Irving.” Abbie looked back and forth between the two women.

“You two play nice, I’ll be back.” When she returned to purgatory she found Ichabod in the same place that she’d left him. His back was to her, she stood for a moment watching him stare into nothingness with his fingers busy at his side, it hurt a little. That movement was something that only happened when he was in flux, when he was unsure of himself, she knew without being told what was causing his unrest. Abbie cleared her throat to alert him to her presence. He whipped around to face her, and immediately detected the uncertainty in her eyes, she tried to hide it, but it didn’t work.

“Abbie.” He said, moving toward her. She forced a smile, the tight closed lipped one that really wasn’t a smile at all. Almost as if she were afraid that if she opened her mouth even just a sliver, the truth would come spilling out. He had watched her use it at times to convey that all was well, even if it wasn’t, but she didn’t want to be bothered with explaining her emotions to anyone. He was always amazed at how many people she fooled with that smile, on the other hand, it was his opinion that her eyes never looked as sad as they did when she smiled that way. He stepped close enough to take hold of her elbows.

“Nothing has changed.”

“Crane.” She stated, warningly, prying her arms loose. He felt five inches shorter hearing her call him by that name. The only time she called him that anymore was when they were fighting or making love, and clearly they weren’t making love.    

“Apple.” He tried again, taking her by the shoulders, “Nothing has changed.”  

“How can you say that?” She asked stepping away from him. “At this very moment the woman you were married to and presumed to be dead, your _wife,_ is standing in our backyard… _everything_ has changed.” She insisted.

“Not between us.”

“Not here, not now.” She’d stated letting him know that the timing and venue for the discussion was all wrong.

“We need to speak about this.” He urged.

“We do, but first we need to breathe, you need…to breathe Ichabod. I saw your face...I saw your face when you realized it was really her, I know what I saw.” She commented, falling deep into thought, reliving the moment.

“What you saw was my elation that she is alive, and in fact did not meet the gruesome fate that you and I had suspected for so many months.” He clarified, again finding a way to hold on to her.

She subconsciously eased away from him, already a little afraid to let him near her. “And you had every right to feel that way, I feel that way. All that I’m saying is.” Abbie massaged the sudden soreness in the back of her neck. “Its okay to go slow…it’s okay to take your time.” She added, returning her eyes to him.

“Abbie.”

“—We need to get back.” She said cutting him off. “Jenny was much less accepting of your wife’s resurrection from the dead then we were.” Ichabod started to interrupt again, but he could tell from the look in Abbie’s eyes it would do no good.  

Now here she was, sitting politely opposite Katrina waiting for Ichabod to finish preparing the tea. Jenny and Irving had decided to clear out shortly after Abbie returned with Ichabod. While Abbie spent a few minutes reassuring Jenny about Katrina, the men said goodnight to each other. Irving felt for his friend, being in the impossible position of having to make a choice between the wife he had, and the one he has now. He related to it on some levels, it seemed more and more Cynthia was eluding to the idea of them starting again. He loved Jenny, he wanted and needed her, but the idea of once again sharing a home with his daughter did appeal to him. As of late he’d managed to keep the inevitable discussion at bay, but he knew that it was looming just around the corner. Still, Ichabod had it worse, Katrina was a witch, and Abbie…who was he kidding Abbie was essentially the same as her crazy ass sister, but lawfully armed. Before leaving Irving turned back out of the earshot of the girls and spoke quietly with Ichabod.

“If you need to get out and go somewhere, for a drink, Cuba, doesn’t matter give me a call.” He shook Ichabod’s hand and pulled him in for a hug as if it would be their final farewell.

Ichabod’s hands shook as he filled three mugs with steamy tea. He thought of Captain Irving’s offer, he could have used a drink, hell in this moment he would even go for one of Marlo’s brownies. But there would be no escape, he glanced over at the two strong-willed women sitting quietly at the kitchen table. The silence made the gravity of the moment somehow feel even heavier. His mouth was dry, and he couldn’t quite seem to breathe, no matter how deep his breaths were. He never meant to hurt anyone, he never _wanted_ to hurt anyone, especially the women seated a few feet from him, but at the end of the night, one of them would most assuredly be hurt.        

Katrina folded her hands together and placed them on the table. “Miss Mills your home is quite lovely.”

“Thank you,” Abbie responded, as Ichabod sat their mugs in front of them. “Make yourself at home, and let me know if you need anything, or if there’s anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable.”

Ichabod’s eyes lit up and his mouth curled into a small smile. That was his Abigail, always kind, and generous, willing to offer assistance to anyone she reasonable could. The glint he saw in Katrina’s eyes reminded him to temper his affection until he relayed to her as delicately as he could who and what Abbie had become to him.  

Katrina wasted no time on filling them in on what had happened to her. The plan she had devised for escape went awry and with her power weakening by the day, she had no choice but to flee, deeper in further into purgatory than she ever had. She hid along the entrance to The Lost Realm, not daring to walk through it, but promising herself that if Moloch discovered her she would. She had heard many stories of people being exiled to, or entering there, but she had never heard stories of anyone escaping once they entered.

“He knew of your plan to rescue me, to deliver me from that prison. He had a creature shadowing my every move. I learned that he had known for some time, but allowed me to remain in contact with you, in the hopes of trapping us all. He wanted…he needed Miss Mills. He had planned to build his kingdom with her at his side, he needed her to give birth to the child that would have made his reign on earth possible. That thing you saw was a distraction, I gather something he hoped would draw your attention, and render Miss Mills isolated and alone. I can only reason that he destroyed an image of me hoping to somehow break you, to destroy you.” She slid her hand across the table and wrapped it around his.

“Oh dear husband, I am so overjoyed that you remained resolute. I do not believe that I would have had the strength to carry on if I had lost you.” She said quietly. Ichabod pulled his hand from beneath hers, and curled it around her fingers.

“Katrina.”

“—Just a minute,” Abbie interrupted. “Moloch seemed to know that he wouldn’t be able to defeat us that day. He said something to Ichabod specifically…” Abbie paused she couldn’t very well tell Katrina that Moloch swore he would take her from Ichabod’s arms, because as of yet she had no idea that Abbie was ever in them. “He eluded to him that he would come for us another day, almost like he knew that he wouldn’t be able to harm us then.”

“Tis typical. Moloch says things often that seem to come to pass, and it almost appears prophetic, however he is as blind to the future as us all. He merely looked upon the future and probable outcomes, and tried to determine which outcomes had a higher propensity to occur.”

“So he was playing the percentages.” Abbie stated, more than asked.

“Yes.” She answered. “Miss Mills, how can I ever repay you for delivering me from that hell?” You have been a most faithful friend to my husband, and have helped him through what I am sure could not have been an easy time. He is blessed to have found a friend such as you.”

“Katrina.” Ichabod said taking her hand again. Abbie looked upon the woman, and felt a sympathy for all she had endured.

“—Has got to be exhausted.” She cut in again, drawing a curious glare from Ichabod. “She’s literally been through hell and back today, why don’t you go up and draw her a bath, and show her around the bathroom.” She added remembering how long it took Ichabod to get comfortable in a modern day setting. “I’ll come up in a bit and put fresh sheets on the bed, and lay out some PJ’s she can slip into, we can continue this tomorrow.” The “but” was nearly out of Ichabod’s mouth before he noticed Abbie looking at him in the way she did when she had already anticipated and considered what he was going to say.

“Very well.” He said as he stood to his feet, and held out his arm for Katrina. She stood, and looped her arm through his.

“Your fellow witness is quite right my dear husband, I did not want to appear rude, however I have journeyed a long way this day, and I find myself fairly fatigued. Thank you, once more Miss Mills, I look forward to fellowshipping with you in the morrow.” Katrina smiled politely as they walked off.

“Goodnight Katrina.” Abbie said offering a terse nod.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, Abbie woke from the most beautiful dream, and salaciously rolled over to act it out. Her eyes were closed as her hands darted underneath the covers in search of the one who had brought such sweetness to her dreams. It wasn’t until she realized that he wasn’t there that she remembered everything that had happened the day before. She sat up, pulling her heavy lids open to look for signs of him about their room. A noisy breath escaped her chest, almost as if an invisible fist had knocked the wind out of her. Her fingers tightened around the blankets, as she pulled herself from the bed. For a moment she simply stood there looking at it, running through a million possibilities in her head explaining why he wasn’t in it, or in the very least why he hadn’t so much as come to her last night to tell her that he wouldn’t be. Her shower didn’t help. As she walked past his old bedroom where Katrina was sleeping it took everything in her not to open the door. Could he have somehow gotten confused about what she’d asked him to do the night before? She wondered meandering past the door. _No. He isn’t in there,_ she told herself, but a little suspicion turned her head back just as she reached the top step. _Is he?_ She thought, eyes trailing the door. _No he would never ever violate you in that way, go downstairs put on a pot of coffee and calm your ass down._ Abbie quietly crept down the stairs, folding her arms over one another to escape the slight chill in the air. The central air was set a little lower than she liked it, she stood with one arm across her chest raising it to seventy-five. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs gazing into the living room. It was dark last night, and they’d never entered the living room, but if they had, Katrina would have known right away the she and Ichabod were so much more than friends. A few pictures on the wall, and one on a table in the hall told the story, or at least the better part of it. Abbie moseyed over to the old wooden table where their photo sat. She remembered the day that she and Ichabod found it antiquing, it just needed a little sweat and love, and in no time they’d brought out all of its beauty. She lifted the picture frame, staring down at the portrait of her smiling while nestled in her husband’s arms. The photo session had been a gift from Jenny in celebration of their marriage. The clattering of dishes, led her to round the corner into the kitchen. A lanky familiar frame hovered over a presumably hot mug of coffee. He was already dressed, gray slacks, undershirt and a navy button up he’d rolled up at the sleeves.

“Morning.” She said as her feet made their way across the cool floor.

“Good morrow.” He replied, the grogginess evident in his eyes as he looked up from his drink. “Coffee?” He asked.

“Please.” Abbie responded walking over to join him. He reached into the overhead cabinet, pulled down the agave nectar, and added a teaspoon to her cup. The was a lurid silence that neither of them hurried to fill, then all at once they both attempted to speak.

“So how’d you sleep?” “I pray heaven’s rest…”   Their words clunked and fell over one another.

“Oh, I’m sorry go ahead.” Abbie offered.

“No, ladies first, I insist.”  

“I slept like a rock, even more so than usual. I guess the last few days finally caught up with me.” She answered nonchalantly, stepping forward to receive the mug he held out. It was a blatant misdirection, tailored to lead him to believe that she hadn’t noticed his absence from their bed, or awoke this morning searching for his touch. She was skilled at it, hiding, she always had been. So many times she was able to put on a brave face or flash a broad smile, and there was just something about it, something tenable and convincing…something in it that made people want to believe that it was true. As the years trudged on she discovered that this gift was also a curse, a blessing in that it allowed her to hide her scars, and nurse her wounds in the only way she knew how, alone. But the same comfort she found in that isolation kept others from ever really knowing her, and sometimes, not often, but sometimes she wished it hadn’t. Until she met Ichabod, Jenny and Corbin were the only ones who ever really knew her.  

She brought the mug to her lips. “You?” She asked through bated breath.

“A little at a time,” he responded taking a sip of his coffee. _Well he slept, where remains the pivotal question,_ she thought moving past him, opening the cabinet in search of more sweetener.    

“Downstairs.” He quickly added, spinning around. His eyes spread over her, watching as she stretched her limbs in search of the nectar he never returned to the cupboard. In seconds he was just beside her moving the jar of coffee grounds out of the way so she could see it.

“Thanks, I didn’t see it there.” She said looking at him all too briefly. She was avoiding his eyes, and already he missed the connection they felt when they were in tune with one another. They might as well have been in separate rooms at this point. Her defenses were up, and he worried that overnight she’d changed the code to bring them back down again. When she was hurting, he knew she was hurting, when she was happy, he felt it too, the same way he knew immediately that right now she was afraid. She was generally softer with him now, gentle, caring, positively adoring, _except_ when she was afraid. She was harder then, sometimes almost undetectably, but he could easily tell if he was paying proper attention to her, and he always paid attention. He waited for her to look up, but decided to prod on when it became apparent she wouldn’t.

“I did as you suggested…took some time to think things through and clear my thoughts.” He said finally, looking down at her.

 

“Oh.” She replied stirring her coffee for what was going on a full minute. Feigning indifference as if he’d just told her he brought in the mail, or some other mundane task that happened every day. Like she hadn’t heard him say that he spent the night contemplating the life they were building together, and the one he’d already built with Katrina, like there wasn’t a fire just outside the room ready to incinerate the blueprints for the future they were planning. Her insides were shaking, and his staring at her that way was doing nothing to make them stop. She took a deep breath gathering the strength to turn and face him.

“I want you to know that…” she sighed considering the weight of her words, wanting to be certain that she meant them, or could at least live with them before fully committing to speaking. “I want you to know that whatever you decide, it’s okay…I told you once before that..I just want you to be happy, even if I’m not a part of your life, even if it’s with someone else. I meant that.”

Every muscle in his face softened, and just as quickly took on a pained expression. “Abbie.”

“It’s just, if we’re honest with ourselves we know that had we not believed she died, we never would have come together in the way that we did. I mean I know that we stole a few kisses here and there, and let each other into some places that we probably shouldn’t have, but…we both know if Moloch hadn’t tricked us, we wouldn’t have totally given in to our feelings, we never would have taken things this far.”

Ichabod sat his mug down, and moved in front of her, trapping her body between his and the counter. “We would have wanted to. I wanted you so very long before that fateful night in purgatory. Do you remember our conversation in the hotel, the night before we attempted Katrina’s rescue. I told you that you controlled our fate. Had you asked me to leave, I would have been yours. I have always been yours.”

“And I told you, I would never ask that of you.” She reminded him.

“That does nothing to change the fact that if you had, I would have been powerless to do anything other than precisely what you instructed. Have you any idea what it means for me to say those words. I made vows, promises to her, the lion’s share of which I fully intend to keep. I promised to protect Katrina, and I still will, I would forfeit my life to protect hers. I promised to love her…and though the last thing I ever want to do is cause you pain, I do still hold love for her.”

Abbie stared into his eyes, trying to remain strong. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know, but it didn’t make it any easier. “I know that.” She said quietly.

“We created a child together, and though I did not have a chance to see him, in some way we shall always be connected.” He looked down at her standing barefoot with her fists locked beneath the opposite elbows and could sense how much she was hurting. “Abbie, the love I hold for her is in the nature that one friend loves another, not in the way that I love you…the way a husband loves a wife. I wrestled with my final vow until the sun found its way into the darkened sky, and come what may I cannot bear to keep it. Forsaking all others.” He took a slow step forward further shrinking the bit of space between them, his thumb rested on her cheekbone as a cupped her head.

“I could never forsake you.” He said carefully.

A quick sigh fell from her mouth, as she turned away from him not wanting him to see the turmoil she’d been going through. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t need him, that she wouldn’t fall apart if he wasn’t with her. She’d always known how to love people in general, but before him she never knew how to love a man, how to give love to one, how to receive it. He taught her that. Who could replace him after everything they’d been through, after everything they’d done. She did feel for Katrina, and couldn’t help but carry a little guilt. After all she fell in love with him while he was still married, long before he’d apparently become a widower. She knew then that these feelings could lead to someone getting hurt, she just always assumed that it would be her. Now that it wasn’t, now that someone else would be hurt because of their love, she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. It was clear, early on if she really thought about it. Their first real fight, the one that sent him storming out of the archives, and ultimately landed him in the center of her living room playing video games with Jenny. That was the first indicator that things had already gone too far. Even when they hurt one another they still _wanted_ each other. At times she wondered whether there was anything, anything at all that she could have done differently, did she steal him she thought. That’s when this little voice would tell her that she couldn’t have, because he was already hers…after learning of their past, she knew he was. They had let each other go, and found their way back to one another’s arms, and she wouldn’t apologize for that. She loved him first, and no one, ever, could love him in the way that she did. Still this small part of her, the part that was placed in foster care, the part that learned to push before being pushed, resisted him. She needed him to know that he was free, and there would be no hard feelings, if he chose to exercise his freedom.  

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“I am certain.”

“But.” Abbie whispered. He placed his finger over her lips to silence her. He could tell that she had some objection or plea, that perhaps he wasn’t making the right decision, he didn’t want to entertain it, as far as he was concerned there was nothing further to consider. He needed her.  

“Shhh.” He whispered. “There are no buts Mrs. Crane. She felt his warm hands inching around her flat abdomen, his lengthy arms crossed around her, and pulled her back to him. An involuntary whimper escaped her, and she couldn’t tell if it was a reaction to how indescribably good she felt when he held her this way, or the realization that his hold over her was completely paralyzing. Because she couldn’t move, or even think clearly when he held her this way, she could barely breathe. She shuddered at the strength of his forearm pressing into her hip bone, his fingers gorging themselves with the meat that covered it. His other hand slipped to her side where he took her fingers in his, and wrapped the combined lot around her body until she felt like he incased her.   She blinked, looking out of the window thinking how they’d been here before, a different time, another place mentally and emotionally but their bodies, physically, this stance, in front of this window, they’d been here before.

He lowered his head, “As I assured you last evening, my feelings for you are unchanged.” She could hear the certainty in his voice, his words felt as firm, and as staunch as his grasp.

“I understand well why you urged me to take proper time to ponder my possibilities, it is your hope that I understand that I have….choices. Just as I sincerely hope that you understand I _have_ chosen. I choose…you. I want…you. I love…you.” He whispered. “There is nothing in the universe that will ever change that. Is that understood?”

Abbie leaned her head back into his chest tearing up a bit, while she answered. “Understood.”

He lifted his hand to her jaw line, bending his back to bring his mouth to hers. Abbie moaned softly twisting her body around to face him, sliding her hands up his firm chest until they reached his broad shoulders. Ichabod’s hands left her hips, in favor of taking up residence over the thin cotton material covering her backside.  

Her lashes fluttered closed as his soft lips lay tender, loving kisses over hers. It was almost as though he was sealing his pledge to her with this very kiss. Her plush lips were soft as peach fuzz, and tasted even sweeter than the flesh found beneath it, he battled against deepening the kiss, but lost as soon as he felt her tongue slip past his lips. He reciprocated aggressively, raising the bar by tightening both palms over her rear and pressing against her with a force that sent his knuckles slamming into the bottom cabinet. He almost hated to kiss her this way when he didn’t have the time to do more, her sensual kisses always drew him in. Those lips were the rabbit hole to his Alice, and once he tasted them, they were impossible to escape. The soft growls Abbie felt rumbling from the back of his throat, caused her nipples to strain against her cotton shirt, and ripples of moisture to gather between the lips north of the center of her thighs. A warning sign that she needed to pull away, but she didn’t, she couldn’t. She wanted nothing more than for him to take one of his extensive magical fingers and slip it up through the place where those lips met causing the building meniscus to break, and allow all of her desire to come spilling out. Ichabod sighed seeing that familiar longing in Abbie’s eyes, he was seconds away from carrying her to the den. They knew they had to stop. Ichabod slowly began releasing her, dropping isolated kisses over her lips.”

“Ichabod?” Everything stopped, Abbie grimaced, and closed her eyes at hearing Katrina’s voice. Their kisses had briefly numbed them to the presence of the outside world. It was only his name, but the way she said it just then, pulsing with surprise, disappointment, and contempt all at once.

“What is the meaning of this?” She continued pacing further into the kitchen.

“Katrina.” Ichabod spoke, letting his hands fall from Abbie and turning to face the distraught woman.”

“How could you?” She asked stepping forward, her face quickly transitioning from wrath to distress.

Ichabod held his hands out in front of him, in an effort to calm her. “Katrina, there is much that we need to discuss.”

She ignored him turning her attention to Abbie. “Have you no shame?” She fussed, stepping in front of the woman she now perceived to be her adversary.

Abbie sighed meeting the woman’s stare. “Ichabod’s right, you two need to talk.” She replied calmly.    

“And what do you know of what my husband needs.” She hissed.

“You know what, this is between the two of you so I’m going to go.” She stated looking up at Ichabod.

“That sounds like a splendid idea, I do not know what is commonplace in this era _Miss Mills_ but where I am from we have a name for interloping women such as you.”

“ _Excuse me_?” Abbie’s eyes widened. She attempted to take a step forward, only to feel Ichabod’s large hands wrapping around her waist.

“Abbie.” He said admonishingly.

“ _Abbie_?” She repeated looking up at him. How was he scolding her, like _she_ was the one who was name-calling? And was this chick really trying to move her out of her own kitchen. Her offering to go was one thing, but if she did go, it would be on her own volition.

“I do believe you heard me quite clearly Miss Mills.” She responded contritely.

“Katrina.” Ichabod warned, but Abbie was already talking over him.

“Oh I heard you, I’m just baffled as to how you have a name for ‘women such as me’,” She stating raising her fingers into air quotes, “When I can assure you, that you haven’t met a woman like me a day in your _hundreds of years of life_.” Abbie snapped.

Katrina pulled her head back, slightly tilted her head to the side. “Oh I know your type, the type to prey upon another woman’s husband, vying for his affections, giving little or no regard to the fact that he is already locked in the bounds of matrimony.”

“Locked,” Abbie laughed, “Now there’s an interesting choice of words, trapped, would have also been sufficient. And don’t fool yourself into believing for one moment that I have to vie for an-y-one’s affection.”

“Enough of this, please!” Ichabod pleaded, trying to put an end to the argument. He had grown tired of listening to them tear away at one another. He couldn’t help but feel that he had somehow mismanaged the situation, and as a result he felt a driving pang of guilt, and responsibility for every insult they hurled at one another. It was too late, they were already locked in on one another, and barely realized that he was still standing there. He looked on, calmly trying to stamp out their argument, but they ignored his every attempt, they stood face to face bickering with one another, their voices carrying on a mile a minute, until it all sounded like white noise.

“You have no idea of the lengths I will go to for my husband.” Katrina warned stiffening up, and narrowing her eyes upon Abbie. “You would be well served in putting your efforts into finding a husband of your own.”

“She has!” Ichabod roared. For the first time since the commencement of their argument, Abbie and Katrina quieted. His face softened when he saw the shock in Katrina’s eyes at his tone. He closed his eyes gently, gathering his breath for a moment realizing that his next words would hurt her, knowing that he had to say them anyway.

“She has.” He repeated, softer this time. “I am afraid that this misunderstanding is all my doing, all of this could have been avoided had I properly introduced you. Her name is no longer Miss Abigail Mills, she now carries the name Mrs. Abigail Crane.” He reached out and locked hands with his wife.      

Abbie looked on as the color drained from the woman’s face. A few seconds ago she was inches away from giving Katrina the verbal beat-down of a lifetime, but now…now she couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Because she watched as the truth settled upon her, and it registered across her face almost instantly. Abbie could almost see the wheels turning inside of her head, and the sorrow that remained after they stopped made it clear that she understood.  

After a long stretch of silence she spoke again.

“Oh dear, of course….I see.” She said bringing her hand to her forehead recalling the little looks she’d witnessed between the two of them the night before. She could tell that they were close, that they shared a certain familiarity with one another, but this she did not suspect.  

“You believed me dead.” She heard what he said last night, even thought of how difficult it must have been for him going through the experience of losing her. But she never once considered that he might have moved on, she just didn’t. It had been some time since he’d thought she’d passed, but for her, the time since they had last spoken moved quite differently, it was like that in purgatory. A day could seem an hour, a month a week, time was relative. She looked down at his ring finger taking note of the posie ring encircling it, complete with the matching one next to a diamond ring around Abbie’s. She couldn’t keep her tears from spilling over. She tried quickly to gather and clear them from her cheeks and lips. Ichabod reached out to her.

“No.” She sniffled turning away his hand. “I am quite alright.” She lied, embarrassed that she was unable to pull herself together. She had loved him more than anything since the day she met him. Ichabod took the shaken woman by the hand and walked her over to a chair. He took the seat directly next to her.

“Oh Katrina,” he whispered wiping away her tears. “I had hoped to convey this to you in a different manner. I thought to tell you at once, but you were fatigued, and I merely reasoned that it would be easier to discuss things after we all took rest.” She looked positively weak like every ounce of energy she garnered through the night was instantaneously siphoned from her, Abbie sympathized immediately, she could only imagine what she must have been feeling. Thinking of Ichabod with someone else after experiencing the way he loved, that kind of devotion, it had to be soul breaking.    

Ichabod’s looked up to see Abbie pointing her thumb back over her shoulder. “Umm, I’m going to go, you two have a lot to discuss.”

“Abbie.” He called to her.

“Bab” Abbie caught herself, to call him baby right now might seem like rubbing salt into her wounds. Katrina wasn’t familiar with modern day terms of endearment, but it wasn’t that hard to figure them out.

“Ichabod, I shouldn’t be here. I’ve got some things I need to do, I’ll see you in a few hours. She paused in front of the table. She wanted to tell Katrina she was sorry. Sorry that she was hurting, sorry for some of the things she said, honestly the entire situation was a mess, but she thought better of it. Surely she was the last person Katrina wanted sympathy from right now. She nodded in their direction and kept heading out of the kitchen.  

Ichabod took his time bringing his former wife up to speed. He relayed his feelings as gently as possible, but he didn’t lie to her, it wasn’t in him to. It seemed like the kinder thing to do, to lie that is, to tell her that he didn’t have any feelings for Abbie until after he believed her to be dead, but it wasn’t true, and it wouldn’t help. She needed to know that though he struggled to remain faithful to their vows, his heart was in another place. She listened to him, closely and quietly, trying to determine if he still carried a flame for her, and discern how deeply his love for this other woman travelled. She couldn’t hold her tongue after listening to him explain to her that perhaps they never truly knew each-other.

“How can you say such things?” She asked when he pointed out some of the things she withheld from him.

“It is not an excuse, by any measure. In fact, it is entirely plausible that you could have been forthcoming about all that was hidden, and I still would have gravitated to her. But still learning of some of the things that you kept from me, your being a witch, and the existence of our son, caused me to realize that perhaps, both of us, never really knew the other as well as we believed.”

“I know that I withheld things, and for that I am forever sorry, but you cannot pretend as if those are the only things that led to this chasm between us. I tried to know you.” She sobbed. “I tried desperately, but you know as well as I that there were parts of yourself that I was never granted access to.”

Ichabod sat back in his chair. “I understand…that I kept a distance between us, and that is precisely why I am not blaming you. There were things that I could have done, better.”

Katrina winced as if wounded. “A distance.” She laughed, joylessly. “When we made love, I lost count of the number of times you withdrew yourself, and spilled your seed upon my thigh or belly, instead of inside of me, like I was someone you visited in a brothel, and not your _wife_.

Ichabod took her hand in his. “Katrina, you know that I was a man at war.”

“In more ways than one.” She reasoned.

“I bore witness to a loss of humanity that only someone fighting a war could possibly begin to understand. You treated the men, you know what was happening. As you know there were times that I was unsure I would survive the night. The thought of you alone in that time was terrible, the thought of you alone with a small child was unbearable. We spoke of this.”

“That is why, I did not tell you I was with child. I did not want to distract you from the task set before you, and quite frankly, I did not know how you would have received the news.”

“I would have been overjoyed.” He stated. They were quiet a long while, their thoughts consumed by all they had lost. Ichabod felt like he should say more, but was unsure as to what he should say. After a moment he told her what had been weighing upon his heart.

“I understand that you were only with him a short duration, but” Tears flooded his eyes as he fought to control his voice. His tone softened, and grew almost to a whisper as he fought back his tears. “What was he like, what color were his eyes, did he cry a lot, or was he quiet…did he seem…happy?” He asked quietly.

“He was perfect. He rarely cried, the short time I was with him. He was such a wonderful little joy, and he had the bluest eye’s I’ve ever seen.” She took his hand. “Your eyes Ichabod.” She added, breaking down, unable to hold back her emotions. Ichabod stood taking her hand and bringing her into his arms. He held her a long while, almost having an undeclared moment of silence for the son they’d never really known. When her tears subsided he released her, and they returned to their seats.    

“I have but one additional question,” she stated looking down at her hands folded against the table. She brought her watery eyes to his. “Did you ever truly love me?”

That question hurt, he would never have married her, and started a life with her if he hadn’t. “How can you ask me such a thing? Of course…of course I loved you.” He replied, taking her hand.

“Only you do not anymore.”

“Katrina, I love you. Though I never had the opportunity to meet our son, you are still the mother of my child, we shall forever be united in that…and even beyond that, I will always care for you, but you should know that…it is in a different manner than I did before.”

“—How long?” She asked drying the last of her tears.

“I beg your pardon.” Ichabod asked not fully understanding the question. “I will always care for you.” He repeated.

“No.” She stated. “You eluded to the fact that you had feelings for Miss Mills—forgive me your _wife,_ ” she corrected bitterly as if she still couldn’t quite believe it, “before you believed me dead. How long?”

Ichabod sighed. He’d told her that he would answer all of her queries. He had hoped she would have no interest in getting into specifics, but he could understand why she did.

“I have loved her for as long as I can remember… only for a time, I could not remember.” He answered honestly. He explained to her that which Gideon had revealed to him. Of his origins, and Abbie’s, of the life they experienced before this one.

“Katrina. I do not wish to hurt you, and I had no recollection of that life until very recently. Even before I knew there was a draw, a pull I cannot quite explain, something that attracted me to her…us to each other. On the eve before we were to rescue you from purgatory, I confessed my feelings to her. I told her all that I had been hiding. You must believe me when I tell you that I planned upon informing you as soon as you were free, if I was alive to see it, that is.” He explained his dreams to Katrina, how he had dreamed of losing his life in purgatory attempting to save her, and how the discovery of Abbie’s gift made it possible for them to enter and exit with far less difficulty.

“If you chose to continue in our marriage knowing all of this, that I was in love with another woman, I would have tried to save our marriage as well.”

“And she was okay with this, your Abigail?” Katrina asked.

“She did not want to change me, to have me act outside of myself. She reasoned that perhaps it would be best if you and I continued on as if she and I had never experienced any intimate feelings at all.”

Surprise gleaned through Katrina’s eyes. “She was willing to give you up?”

“Yes.” He answered. Katrina’s eyes lit up as she began seeing things from different angles. At first she felt overwhelmed with despair, worried that she had lost Ichabod forever. But now she reasoned that there was a way that she could win him back. She suffered through hundreds of years in purgatory for him, to be with him. She had no intention of letting some other woman slip in and take all that was hers. Abigail could never love him the way that she did, she was willing to let him go, a woman with such lack of devotion, and industry was unworthy of a man like Ichabod. Katrina had earned the right to be called his wife. She had done unspeakable things to keep him with her, she was willing to do so much more. He still loved her, he said it himself. She simply needed to find a way to get him to discover how much he still cared, and she also needed a way to get Abigail out of the picture for good. Katrina’s eye’s travelled around the room, it was quite nice actually, different than what she was accustomed to, but nice. She could get used to it. She glanced at the handsome man before her knowing exactly how to play him.

“Well I should gather my things,” She said looking down at the pajamas Abbie had loaned her. “I am not certain of where I might find residence, and work but as soon as I have I will send word of where you might find me, should you require anything of me.” She said standing up from her seat.

“Katrina.” He exclaimed grabbing her arm. “I am here for you, we can remain friends can we not? You needn’t worry of finding a residence or work unless you so choose. I have seemed to have come into a bit of money, nothing too ostentatious by today’s standards, but enough to keep you fairly comfortable. This time and place affords a variance of opportunities to women, things that you could have only imagined doing in our era. It is everything you longed for back then, I have so much to show you. You can choose to find employ or start your own business, but whatever goals you strive for, rest assured that I will be here to help you achieve them.” He pledged offering a small smile, excited for her to see this new world, and find her place in it.

“Yes but Abigail, the things I said to her, surely the lady of the house will not want me here upon her return.”

“Abigail, was angry, but she has the largest heart of anyone you shall ever meet. As you can see, this world is quite different than our own, with that arises a new host of incalculable dangers. You are most welcome to stay here with us until you are able to manage them, in fact, I insist.”

Abbie pulled into the garage gathering all of the things she had purchased after running her errands. A host of supplies that she knew Katrina would need in the coming days. She’d purchased her a few dresses to get her through until she or Ichabod had time to take her shopping. She had everything, undergarments, bra sizes she’d guessed at but it would have to make due for now, feminine supplies, deodorant, toothbrush, body wash’s, lotions, hair ties, ect. Both of them had said a few things they shouldn’t have but she hoped this care package would serve as a small apology. When Ichabod first arrived, it was a while before she truly felt comfortable about him staying on his own without worrying about him accidentally killing himself, she was sure Katrina would be with them for at least a few weeks.

When she entered the house the two of them were still in the kitchen. Ichabod was cooking chicken penne while Katrina observed. He looked back, smiling at his wife as she sat the bags down on the table.

“What’s all this.” He said coming over to hug her. Abbie pulled away from him quickly noticing Katrina’s eyes had followed him.

“Uh, just a few things I picked up.” She smiled nervously, wondering how their talk had gone. Something sure smells good.” She stated looking off toward the stove.

“Oh,” He remembered his pan of chicken and headed back over to turn it. “I am instructing Katrina on safety practices for operating the stove.”

“Mrs. Crane”, Katrina said taking a few strides over to Abbie. Abbie could tell it was uncomfortable for her to call her that, it was written all over her face. The words struggled out of her mouth like she would have preferred to swallow them instead.

“You can call me Abbie.”

“Yes. Well Abbie.” She smiled. “Earlier, I lost myself and I said horrible unwarranted things to you. Ichabod has informed me that you were instrumental in rescuing me from purgatory…in fact he stated that he could not have done it without you. I was mistaken, and confused seeing the two of….” Her eye’s fell to the ground. “Well, what I mean to say is, I beg your pardon.”

Abbie offered a small smile, lips closed, eyes open. There was a little sensor she had, a tiny intuition that she’d carried with her all of her days, it had helped her tremendously throughout her life, especially in her line of work. Corbin always said she just had an inner ability to read people, to know if they were genuine and truthful, or fake. Something in Katrina’s eye’s gave her the heebie geebies, but she couldn’t trust her sensor because it may have been tainted, predisposed toward not liking this woman because of who she was, and the relationship she had with the man she loved. So she relied on what she learned to rely upon when she couldn’t trust her gut. Ichabod. She looked over to find him turning over his shoulder watching them. He trusted her…at one point he was in love with her, how bad could she be.

“Katrina, there’s nothing to forgive. I understand completely why you reacted the way you did.” Abbie noticed Ichabod smile and return to his chicken. Abbie held out her hand. “Let’s let bygones be bygones.” The women shook on it. Abbie glanced over at Ichabod.

“You can stop pretending that you weren’t listening to our every word.” She teased. He placed his pan on the backburner, and ambled over to them. “I knew that the two of you would become fast friends.” He beamed. Abbie was startled when Katrina draped her arms around her, and pulled her into a hug.

The red heads face drew into a full grin. “You are most correct Ichabod, Abbie and I will become closer than you ever imagined."

* * *

 

**Two weeks later...**

 

 

There are things we’ve learned that help us travel through this life as efficiently as possible. Little skills we’ve acquired that help to shield us from hurt, and keep us from causing any. We are constantly adapting to the world around us, with every triumph and failure we are reshaping ourselves. Whether wholly excising the parts that are found wanting, or bolstering our abilities until our weaknesses become strengths, and our talents become perfections. We grow every day. There is a gap between this world and the world Katrina and Ichabod came from. Fortunately Abbie and Ichabod had already built a bridge to close that gap, but still there was no substitute for the time it would take for Katrina to walk across it. The task of helping someone transition from the old world to the new one was a difficult one, everything had changed, even something as simple as bathing. While there once was a pitcher inside of a basin upon a night stand, there now stood an entire room dedicated to having a bath or shower.   She was learning though, everything from balancing a checkbook, to finding her way about town, to recognizing when a gallon of milk was overpriced. It wasn’t always easy but at least she hadn’t accidently killed herself.

Abbie was working her regular hours, and when she wasn’t she was scheduling Katrina some appointment or the other, or accompanying her and Ichabod to one appointment or the other. Frank was able to assist her in acquiring proper identification, and according to the United States’ government, she had always been a fully functioning member of society. Abbie had also taken it upon herself to try to track Abraham down. He would want to know that the woman he’d sold his soul for was alive and well, but as of late, Jenny couldn’t get a trace on him.

A worn out Abbie pulled into the garage, and collapsed over the steering wheel. She silently thanked God that she wasn’t due back to work for a few days, she needed every second of this time off to recuperate from the long week. It was a lot less strenuous than last week, but she still felt as though she was lagging. She laughed quietly considering how ironic it was that Moloch was dead, and the apocalypse was officially over, but she felt busier than ever. She yawned walking through the garage stripping off her holster before her feet could even hit the steps. A rush of wind rushed by her as the door flung open and Ichabod appeared from behind it.

“Hey what! Mmmm.” She moaned as he zipped down the steps and smooched her lips. She closed her eyes, and relaxed in his arms. She’d spent her entire shift writing one report after another, and he was everything she needed at the end of a mentally stressful day.

“Hi.” She whispered softly. “What was that for?”

“The same thing that this is for.” He replied leaving a long peck on the surface of her lips. “And this.” He continued pulling her bottom lip inside of his mouth.

“I missed you.” He breathed. “I miss this.” He added closing his eyes as his strong hands languished over her round bottom. He was so big, she thought, it felt like every inch of her was surrounded by him, but ironically nothing made her feel more free than his arms holding her that tight. Abbie stood in front of his workbench sinking into him, losing herself in the subtle scent of his cologne. Her worries and cares about everything outside of these walls began to evaporate.

He brought one of his hands up, rubbing tight circles into the base of her spine. A smile decorated her lips as a wispy sigh escaped. Ichabod pressed a few soft kisses into her head, feeling her tension diminish.

“How was your day?” He asked, as he always did when she came home. She raised her eyes to his, too blissfully removed from it to remember anything of significance about it.

“Unremarkable.” She responded, noticing his eyes were focusing on her lips. “And yours.”

“Katrina and I went to the library. I spent some time going through a few text I am considering incorporating into one of my lesson plans for the fall.” _He’s still staring,_ she thought. All at once the air around her seemed a little less plentiful.

“That sounds productive.” She breathed.

“It had it’s moments.” He acknowledged. “However, I must admit that most of my day was spent thinking of you.”

“Of me?” she repeated more coyly than she intended to.

A quick dismissive burst of air breezed through his nostrils. He had no doubt that she knew how fully she occupied his thoughts…his heart…his entire being. The only thing more he could have done to prove his love for her would have been to rip his heart out of his chest and hand it to her. He took a few steps backward, pulling her with him, until he was resting against the side of his vehicle.

“Every time I attempted to fixate upon the text in front of me, it transformed into a blur that unfailingly took on the shape of your face, your eyes…these lips.” He confessed dragging his thumb across them.

Abbie stretched her mouth to his, catching chills from the small hum that left his mouth moments before his lips impacted hers.

There were ways that he touched her when he wanted just to touch her, to feel his skin against her and share the same space, then there was the way that he touched her when he wanted something more. She could tell from how tightly he pulled her against him that he not only _wanted_ something more, but he had every intention of getting it.

Abbie swallowed, trying to smother the fire that was surging through the center of her chest. His fingers, the ones that were spread eagle gripping her hips and thighs eased up her frame, and unfastened the button of her pants. No matter how much she tried to keep her composure, her breaths betrayed her, falling from her lips in the form of wild pants, letting him know how much she wanted him too, no matter what she had said to the contrary previous to now.

“Baby.” She cautioned, looking down and removing his finger from the edge of her panties before he had the chance to slip them inside. “Remember what I said, and here, no. Someone could catch us.” She breathed, re-buttoning her pants. She said someone like there was a possibility of someone besides Katrina stumbling in on them, there wasn’t, but he knew what she meant. She let her head fall against his chest, too afraid to look him in the eyes, she knew from past experience that if she looked at him, she would fold.  

“Abbie.” He complained, lifting her mouth to his. “You said that you did not want to make love in the house when other people were there.” He waved a hand around their surroundings. “Technically we are not in the house.” His hands made their way across her body, stopping to rub and squeeze her in all the places he knew would make her reconsider. “Besides, we have made love before with Miss Jenny in the house.” Abbie shook her head.

“Jenny isn’t people, she’s my sister, it’s different.”

“Treasure, the last I checked our house guest was upstairs reading, and she indicating that she would have a bath after she finished her book.” His teeth nipped at her lips. “No one will know.” He quietly argued, dipping his head to nuzzle her neck. He tugged at her shirt laying wet kisses over her breasts. She pulled his head up before he could remove her nipple from her bra. He grumbled in response, tightening his arms around her allowing her to feel every inch of his desire.

“It has been far too long since I have had an opportunity to lavish my affections upon you. I have been craving your intimate touch for what feels like an eternity.” It hadn’t been that long really, just a little over two weeks but Abbie understood how he was feeling. She missed making love to him too, she just didn’t feel comfortable enough to do it while Katrina was there. At first her reluctance was just out of decency, she knew their bed creaked, and she sometimes lost herself completely when he made love to her, the sounds and words that catapulted from her mouth were often loud and at times obscene. That was the last thing she needed was his ex-wife listening to them getting it in, she didn’t want to cause any additional heartache. Still Ichabod was a full-fledged mastermind when it came to getting into her panties, so naturally Abbie had already caved to his seduction twice, but ironically each of those times Katrina interrupted them, almost like clockwork. Her small knuckles smacked across their bedroom door as soon as things started heating up, once to inquire about which medication was best for her “positively dreadful” headache, another because the television screen in her room went black, and she wondered if she’d broken it. After that Abbie was a little weirded out by the whole thing, and chose to put that part of their life on pause. How hard could it be? She wondered. Well it was a hell of a lot harder than she expected it to be, and his fingertips digging into her symmetry line, while his palms cuffed her ass was erasing every rule she’d created in the past, and for the life of her she couldn’t see far enough past him to even begin to imagine a future.   All she knew or wanted to know was now, this moment, these feelings in this place, with the person she loved more than anything else in the world. Ichabod knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her, she just needed a little help letting go.

His eyes darted around the room making sure it was as secure as it could possibly be. The garage door was down, and locked, the door to the house was closed, even though it couldn’t be locked from the outside. It was enough, it was all they had, so it had to be enough.

He returned his eyes to Abbie, taking her hand and placing it over the growing bulge in his slacks. Abbie groaned at the feel of him. Her chest was suddenly tight, and the pulsing between her thighs began to consume her brain. Her hand shook as she felt his hardened flesh jumping beneath her fingertips, struggling unrelentingly against the garments that encased it in an effort to burst free and move closer to her palm. It was as if her hand was a magnet and his cock was fashioned from raw steel, it wanted her.  

“I need you.” He whispered, slowly sliding her hand up and down the front of his pants. “Do you wish me to beg for it….I will.” He whispered taking her lips.

“No, don’t beg.” Her reply edged out between heavy breaths. She was already doing everything she could to keep from dropping her knees into the cement and sucking him senseless. The wetness that once pooled between Chloe’s lips seeped into her sheer panties. The last thing she needed him to do was beg, he had done it once before and she still couldn’t imagine anything sexier, on him at least. She’d always hated when other men did it, she’d found it bothersome and desperate, but he had a way of doing it, something in his tone that made it seem like he wasn’t really begging at all, just asking very politely for something he thought he deserved. She didn’t need him to beg, it sent her to another place and unless he wanted to spend the rest of the week trying to pound dents out of his car, he really shouldn’t. His wet mouth opened over hers, as he slipped his tongue between her lips.

“Do you not want it too?” He murmured, turning her around so her back was to the car. Her rear butted up against it as he erased every molecule of space between their bodies.

“Apple,” His warm breath fell against the side of her face and his hold on her hand strengthened, pressing it more firmly against his pulsing shaft.

He swallowed, and went in for the kill. He licked his lips, and leaned his face over hers. “Simply allow me to taste you, have I not been on my best behavior….surely you can allow me a small taste, Apple please.” The longing on his face and in his eyes coupled with his words undid her, she broke, everything, a sweat, his shirt buttons, her rule, because that bullshit he spoke about this not being the house was just that, bullshit, but she didn’t care. Her fingers had unlocked his belt, and had his pants unbuttoned with the flick of her wrist, her small fingers desperately tugged the elastic of his boxers away from his belly while the other ones swiveled inside of them eager to grip the instrument he had so ruthlessly teased her with.

A groaned choked out of him as he nearly collapsed under her firm grasp. He hitched one hand against his car for balance, and used the other to bring her mouth to his. He thrust into her stroke, grunting and reveling at how perfectly she transitioned from strength to smooth nimbleness with such fluidity and grace. Every time they made love Abbie was only concerned with pleasing him, seeing his pleasure, tasting it, it excited her in ways she couldn’t really describe. He’d always loved her so selflessly, leading her to an ecstasy she never thought was humanely possible, she made certain to love him in the same manner. She sunk to her knees wanting to feel him inside of her mouth, needing to really, but he had other ideas. The muscles in his arm clenched as he clasped his hand around her wrist to still her movements. He looked down at her, her head just in front of his tire, she was never afraid to get a little dirty, he loved that about her, but he had been too long without her for that, he would never last.

“I will be of no use.” He said. The words sputtered out awkwardly due to all of the excess air floating around his mouth. He lifted her from the ground and had her tiny body spread out over his hood in seconds, his thumbs worked quickly together to undo her pants enough to slide them down around her thighs. The noise he made when he saw Chloe, like he was going to die if he would have had to have gone another second without seeing her again. She took notice of the way his eyes flared wide as they fell upon her sex.

“God I’ve missed you.” He gasped. He hummed a long kiss over her closed lips, before using his thumbs to open them. He mumbled his moans over her as his lips and tongue began kissing and licking away at her wetness. Abbie’s teeth locked gently over the skin covering her wrist, as her back arched up off of the cool hood. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and everything went hazy. Her hands tugged at his soft locks as his wet tongue alternated between spinning slow and fast circles around Chloe’s nucleus. Abbie’s arms stretched up over her head, and she squirmed about the hood of his car struggling against her release. This was one of her favorite feelings, climbing the mountain, building stronger and stronger with every oscillation of his tongue. But she could never struggle against him for long he was rapidly dragging her to the peak whether she was ready to go or not.   


“More, baby, please more.” Her hands fell to the side of her pants, gripping them in an effort to pull them further down her legs. Ichabod raised up to finish pulling her pants off. He was so eager to taste her he had only managed to pull her pants down around her ankles. But he knew Abbie, he knew how she wanted it. Her favorite way to come was with a part of him inside of her, be it his fingers or her personal favorite, his dick. She always responded to him, whether he used his mouth, his fingers, or a combination of both, but it wouldn’t hold her, it never did, there were nights that he wrapped his lips around her clit, and lost count of how many times she tightened and re-tightened around his finger. She was gluttonous in her desire for him, coming, and coming, and coming, only to look at him with that insatiable lust in her eyes that let him know that she wanted to come again. His hand would glisten with her wetness, and it didn’t stop there. She could soak the sheets, and still not be satisfied. So when she asked for more he knew what she really wanted, the only thing that ever really squelched her desire. Ichabod pulled her shoes off, and hurriedly tugged her jeans over her heels letting them fall to the garage floor. His shirt was removed with lightning speed, he slid his pants down under his ass, and his fingers quickly reached down gripping the turgid mass centered between his legs.

Abbie never did drugs, she hit a rough patch when she was younger and went through the ‘fuck the world’ phase a little harder than most teens, but drugs weren’t a part of it. Still in her profession she’d witnessed plenty of people battling addictions, she knew what addiction looked like. She knew what _she_ must have looked like with all of her business spread out over the hood of a dusty car, in a dimly lit garage, with her breath fully suspended, watching and desperately waiting, twisting, itching, silently praying, and audibly begging for him to hurry up and shove every inch of his swollen erection inside of her.

He was her addiction, and she was long past due for her fix. Ichabod used his thumb to spread the moisture leaking out of his tip all over the head of his manhood. He looked down over her body, her glorious torso partially lifted from the hood, weighted upon her slender arms. Looking at the beautiful, tense, panicked expression drawn across her face, while listening to the tiny pleadings falling from her lips caused him to grow harder still. He was ready to explode.

His tongue raked over his lips. “Take everything off. I want you bare.” Abbie didn’t spare a second, her shirt was over her head and tumbling toward the floor before his words had a chance to settle. His hand touched her arm.

“Slower,” he whispered. “There’s no rush.”

He was teasing her, she thought, he’d done it before, he knew that she was feining for him, and being the cocky son of a bitch he was he flexed his control. If he wanted it slow, she would make time freeze.  She stretched her arms behind her back and unpinned her bra. Abbie turned her body to the side arching her back, so he could have full display of her silhouette. Her damp round bottom quickly adhered to the cool surface of the hood, hinging her in place.   She bent her knees up slightly, and pointed her toes like there was a ballerina instructor waiting to smack her with a meter stick if she didn’t get it just so. The leisure she took easing her black lacy brassiere down her frame left Ichabod’s mouth watering. He gulped, thinking how celestial she was. Her mahogany skin shimmered beneath the low lights. Her firm, plentiful breast sat attentive, almost begging to be suckled. He reached for her, but she quickly slapped his hand away.

“Not yet.” She brought her eyes to his as her lips bent into a devious smile. “There’s no rush.” She whispered.  Abbie kept her back arched and leaned her head back even further, running her fingertips over her contours stopping to pinch and twist her nipples. For the life of him he couldn’t manage to move his breath further than the back of his throat, it was caught there, trapped and isolated, rendered her willful prisoner. He felt the beads of sweat forming along his forehead. His fingers closed around his cock desperately trying to relieve some of the pressure building there.

“Is this slow enough for you.” She purred slipping two fingers between her thighs. She delved her finger just inside of her entrance and mewled at the sensation.

“Abbie.” He huffed, consumed by lust, listening to the noise her fingers made dipping into her wetness.

She plunged it in again, further this time. “Mmm” she moaned. That simple action quickly broke Ichabod from his trance, as she knew it would. He’d grown abundantly possessive, and didn’t want anyone, not even her, touching Chloe, he’d told her as much the last time he caught her pleasuring herself. Within moments he had the offended hand closed in his.

“That’s mine.” He pouted, looking at her as if she’d really taken something that belonged to him. Abbie ripped her hand away from him, and twisted her body to face him.

“Prove it.” Her voice was hoarse with longing as she challenged him. Ichabod reached down and grabbed Abbie’s hand again. His mouth fastened around the finger she had pushed inside of her. His eyes closed, as he sucked every drop of wetness from her finger. When he opened his eyes, he could see the lustful abandon in Abbie’s. He immediately kissed her, tilting her chin up and dipping his tongue into her mouth. She was so overcome she didn’t notice his hand moving between them until she felt his fingers caressing her little pearl.      

“Do you see how delectable you taste?“ He huffed against her lips. Abbie managed a whimper as her reply. His baritone voice sent vibrations through her entire body. Damn he knew how to get her open. His tongue briefly returned to hers, massaging against it, as he slid his middle finger to her entrance and slipped it inside. Abbie was shaking, her body writhed against his him, as the slickness of her arousal quickly coated his knuckles and slipped down his hand. A hoard of heavy breaths, and quiet cries tumbled from her mouth one right after the other.

“Mmm,” he moaned, “You were going to waste it.” He rasped, kissing her intermittently between words. “That is why I no longer want you touching Chloe,” his teeth raked across her collar bone, “but I am most willing to share, you need only ask.”

Abbie couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy telling her she needed to ask for permission to touch herself.

If his lips weren’t rumbling over hers, if his long ass finger wasn’t massaging her cervix so, so perfectly, if he wasn’t the realest man she had ever met in her entire life, she would tell him to get the fuck out of here. But he was, so she couldn’t say shit, at least not right now. Maybe later, at a moment when her brain was working properly and all decision making wasn’t being ran through the tyrant in-between her thighs. But as of right now, all she could manage to say was,

“K-kay.”

Ichabod slowly pulled his digit from her soft warmth, and immediately brought it to his mouth. Abbie quickly grabbed his wrist with both hands and pulled it into her mouth. He watched enraptured as she swirled her tongue around it, making certain not to waste a drop as she slowly brought it out from her taut lips. Ichabod swallowed hard, watching as her tongue spread across her lips in search of any excess.  

His large fingers cinched around her hips and drug her toward him. “Come here.” He ordered raggedly, lifting her from the hood, and pinning her up against the side of the car. Their fingers battled to grab a hold of his shaft and guide him into her. In the end they both had a hand in it, her fingers tightened around the tip while his thumb and forefinger gripped the base and angled him inside of her.

He plunged, harder than he ever had on the first stroke, not stopping until every bit of him was buried deep inside. His shoulders dropped as he sunk into her.

“Oh.” Abbie cried out immediately, panting wildly subconsciously digging her fingertips into his shoulders. They made love a lot, positions varied, and places constantly changed, but every single time there were two moments when he made certain to ink his name over every inch of her womb, when he put it in, and when they came. He claimed her, in these moments holding her tighter to him than the very skin he was born in. The terse, anxious expression immediately evaporated from Abbie’s face. Her lips parted wide, as she fought to suffocate another moan and gather her breath at the same time. Her pupils expanded to enormous proportions, briefly jumping with newly discovered life before narrowing and deadening within a span of seconds. He was her drug, and she OD’d every time he entered her. But unlike real drugs where people OD’d, and stayed dead, he brought her back to life with the second stroke. Her eyes closed as she was reborn into complete nirvana. Ichabod had watched this beautiful process overtake her countless times, but he couldn’t today. He’d been shut off from her for far too long and only managed to keep his eyes open for a split second before they rolled into the back of his head and feathered shut. A jerky gasp broke away from him.

“You feel so good, so perf—oh my God!” He groaned. Her legs wrapped around his waist as his hands covered her ass. The window lining from the side of the car was digging into her back, but she didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to her at that moment was the feeling of him thrusting deep inside of her. He always stood strong for her when they made love, but he felt positively weak at the moment, he didn’t know if it was due to the length of time he was without her, or the fact that she felt so earth shatteringly perfect that it took every ounce of energy for him not to come prematurely. Ichabod lifted her from the side of the car taking a few short steps to the trunk, he laid her back flat across it while keeping her rear hanging over the edge. He peered down spying through half closed lids as her legs instinctually butterflied for him. His hand wrapped underneath her hips holding her steady as he drove his love in and out of her. Her reactions intensified, he could feel her getting closer to her peak. He bent his back eagerly licking and sucking the taut flesh of her nipples, her head raised to taste his lips as he delved inside of her and crashed against her bottom. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, he’d waited far too long for it to all end so quickly, but her hips crashing into his stroke let him know he didn’t have a choice. He stopped moving, earning him a disappointed whine from Abbie.

“No baby, don’t stop, don’t stop.” She pleaded.

“Tell me that we can do this again tonight.” He bargained.

She started to ask him what he meant until she came to her senses and knew exactly what he was talking about. “Baby we agreed, please.” She moaned wriggling against him, he calmed himself and somehow mustered up the strength to withdraw. Her eyes flipped open with panic.

“No, no no, please put it back in.” She begged.

“I have changed my mind about our so called agreement, I want you again tonight, and twice in the morrow.” He briefly slid a few fingers up her torso before slowly placing his shaft at the tip of her sex, the head of it barely touching her flesh. He thrust back into her, hard and slow enough to make her toes curl. He groaned, but willed himself to keep his eyes open and watch as she started to unravel.

“Promise.” He demanded, breathlessly.

She was right there, he was everywhere inside of her at the same time, and she couldn’t stop the impending explosion if she tried. He always knew when to ask for things, the moments when she couldn’t refuse him.

“I, Oh, Okay, prom-promise.” She mewled.

Ichabod drove into her holding her hips and squeezing her against him at the bottom of each stroke. His sack tightened and rubbed against her as he stilled.

“Want to hear you say it.” He shivered, biting back a moan, and trembling violently from trying to thwart off his release.

“Oh!” Abbie cried quietly. “Yes just, oh!” Her fingers gripped him, nails tearing at the skin covering his lower waist, as she quivered toward ecstasy.

“Yeeesssss!” She whined. “You can get it tonight, and to—tomorrow Oh God, baby please don’t stop!” She cried. She was his, Chloe belonged to him and him alone, the same way his piece belonged to only her. It wasn’t that he didn’t like seeing her touch herself, he quite enjoyed it, but even though Abbie wanted to help out, he needed her to know that he was on the fucking job, and ready to punch in whenever she desired. He leaned over her, laying the wood like the captain he was, proving it as she had so eagerly challenged, watching through a half lidded gaze as his long, hard strokes sent her hands flinging over her mouth to seal off her screams while she rocketed into oblivion. He hitched a ride with her, banging into her frame harder than he could ever remember until his entire body jerked and trembled. He collapsed over her, groaning out her name, and professing his love as he filled her with his seed. She wouldn’t challenge him again anytime soon.

 

 

 

 

 


	19. Two Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clearly I'm scatterbrained and you cannot listen to anything I say regarding when a Chapter will be ready. LOL. I got swamped which caused my truest loves to feel a little neglected so I couldn't get back to it as quickly as I hoped, but here it is, I hope you enjoy it. I feel like Chapters 18 and 19 are building chapters, and I'm hoping that Chapter 20 will be better. Hoping! Fingers crossed. Thank you guys for reading. Enjoy! :-)

Their breaths were still heavy even though the last waves of their orgasm had long crashed against the sand. Ichabod stood in front of his car still struggling to breathe, one of his hands drawn around his wife’s waist while the other one was tightly grasping her hip. She had scattered every part of his brain into a million different directions, and he hadn’t yet managed to find the resolve to bring it back together. His eyes traveled down her form until they came to the place where their bodies had joined. They were such a perfect fit he thought running his fingers over the skin beneath her chin. He slid his fingertips down the center of her figure gliding over her mons pubis, and pressed down a little firmer when he came to her clit. She shivered from the contact, jerking slightly from the sensitivity, missing him the instant he pulled out.

“Was that proof enough for you?” He asked leaning over her, covering her face with soft kisses. “Or do you require more?”   Normally the arrogance and sarcasm sweeping through his voice would have earned him a snarky reply, but she couldn’t front, he took complete control of her body, loving her just the way that she needed without her having to provide direction or tell him what to do. How was she supposed to live a normal life knowing he had the ability to do what he just did? And he knew all too well that his ability was one of unique existence. A prideful grin swept across his face as he tucked a few strands of Abbie’s hair behind her ear, watching her. The light sheen covering her skin took on a beautiful glow rendering her utterly radiant. Her hair hadn’t changed, nor her manner or style of dress, but there was something minutely different about her. He quietly followed the thought for a moment trying to decide upon what it was, but gave it up when she sat up and tied her arms around him.

“Come here.” She cooed. Abbie sat up on the trunk ensconced in her husband’s arms, tilting her head up to receive his kisses. “I wish you could feel, just once, what I feel when you’re making love to me.”

“You enjoyed that, did you?” He boasted, a debonair smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“Hmmph.” Abbie placed a soft affectionate kiss over his lips. “I did.”  

“Well, I’m delighted to hear it, because I loved it,” He declared brushing his thumb along her outer thigh. “I love you. Perhaps if you possessed my anatomy for a singular day, and experienced even an ounce of what I feel when I’m inside of you, how sensational you are,” His voice grew even deeper, “How good you feel…you would understand completely why I cannot manage to keep my hands from upon you. Why I need to have more of you.” His fingers pressed along her spine at the bottom of her waist.

“Well I don’t need any more proof that's for damn sure, you were right, Chloe’s yours. You _(kiss)_ tore it _(kiss)_ down _(kiss)_ , and I will keep my ‘little fingers’ as you call them out of her, just as you asked.”

Ichabod’s eyes lit up, he hadn’t expected this, especially after the conversation that ensued the day he caught her in the bathtub pleasuring herself.

“Say that again.” He stated, unable to believe his ears.

“You heard me the first time,” she replied through barely opened lips. She couldn’t get over the look of disbelief covering his face. “What’s so hard to believe?” She asked, bearing an airy smile.

“You were so adamant to the contrary when we discussed the matter before.” He noted.

He would never forget the day he found her with her head thrust against the back of the tub as her knees poked out of the top of the water. Her willowy arms was wedged purposefully between her thick thighs, the bottom portion of it submerged, shielding her fingers as they were doing the very thing he longed to be. He wondered briefly why she hadn’t woken him, why she hadn’t flung her leg over his or placed the weight of her sumptuous lips against his neck as she had done to gain his attention so many times before. He would have been delighted to dismantle every square inch of her desire, but he wasn’t given the opportunity. The already scant room in boxer briefs lessoned substantially as he watched her pink lips part to release a throaty gasp. Unable to stop his tongue from moistening his lips, or keep his hand from sliding across his cock while she made a face that he had made it his personal duty to make certain she bore as often as possible. She was so beautiful when she came, a heavy breath left him as a gentle moan slipped free from her open mouth. He felt the hairs on the back of his head stand on end as he watched her, unnoticed. He was certain that had she not been wearing ear-buds she would have heard him approaching, if only due to the thundering noise of his heart. He reached out and touched her shoulder causing her eyes to fly open, and hands to spring up, flinging water as they went. Unable to mask her embarrassment she pulled her ear-buds from her ears and let them fall to the side of the tub.

“Baby!” She’d said trying to will her eyes back to their normal size. “I didn’t here you come in.”

“Clearly.” He noted raising a brow, already easing out of his underwear. Abbie had already spent an extra ten minutes in the tub and was running behind schedule. Seeing his intention, she offered a rain-check and all hell broke loose. He stood rod straight crippled with righteous indignation, beyond pissed that she hadn’t invited him to the party _and_ _wasn’t going to let him crash it_. At the time Katrina had been with them a full week, and it had been nearly ten days since they’d made love, he was beside himself with desire. While getting dressed Abbie tried explaining that she hadn’t planned it, telling him how she was soaking and started thinking of the last time they were together which caused her to get a little carried away, but he was still hurt, and didn’t want to hear it.

“You were sleeping, I was in a rush, not to mention your ex-wife is across the hall.” She stated slipping into her boots.

“You know full well I would have woken, further I would have been as speedy as you commanded, and I remain unmoved by your argument listing who is across the hall, as I stated before it is of no importance to me, this is our home, you are my wife.” He watched her tighten her belt and knew he had no chance at talking her into staying. “It is unfair,” he pouted stepping closer, “and in the future if I cannot touch Chloe, neither can you.”

Needless to say his declarations were none too popular with Abbie who quickly pointed out that even though he believed it to be his, her vagina was her own, and further he didn’t see her trying to control whether or not he masturbated.

“One, Chloe _is_ mine, two, I very rarely handle myself,” He’d replied. “And even then, it has only been when you are unable, generally the time of month when you simply cannot. But that is beside the point wife, you are denying _me_ , _I_ am not denying you, I doubt that I ever could…but if I did, and then took myself in hand how would you feel.”

Abbie could see his point but felt that he was looking at things the wrong way. After trying unsuccessfully to convince him that she was not denying him, and gently remind him that they both agreed not to have sex while Katrina was in the home, and she was _always_ home, Abbie gave up. He was being ridiculous, and she was late. She didn’t have time to discuss it any further so they had to ice the conversation, and somehow it was never brought up again until now.

She sat on the hood of his car still on her official visit to la-la land, travel arrangements compliments of Ichabod Crane. “Look honestly, she likes you so much more than she likes me anyway, and clearly she prefers everything you do to her over _anything_ I call myself doing, sooo. There it is. BUT, there is one condition.” She stated.

“What would that be?” He whispered in a low moony tone. Abbie reached down and wrapped her hand around his length. “I don’t want you fondling my things without permission either.”

“But.”

“Un uh, no butts,” she crooned holding him tighter.

“Deal. However,” he added stroking her hair, “I need you….at the very least two days a week.”

“I think I can manage that.” She agreed.

“I mean it Abbie, even if hell raises and the heavens fall. We need to make love a minimum of two days a week.”

“We will.” She promised. She glanced down at her hand. She should have been used to it by now, but somehow feeling him stiffen beneath her fingers surprised her. They weren’t a full seven minutes removed from their last session, and yet he was ready to go again. She quickly released him returning her hands to the car and sliding down off of the trunk.

“Sorry.” She said.

“I fear it is too late for that.” Ichabod said looking down at his rapidly thickening member. She couldn’t pretend, she was excited all over again just from looking at it.  

“We should get dressed.” She blustered, scanning the room for her clothes.

“Perhaps we should.” He said leaning forward smooching her lips. Knowing that at the moment he had no desire nor intention of seeing her cloaked in anything save her bare skin. He kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss even further as he felt her start to lose herself in his arms. She nipped at his lips as his arousal pulsed against her abdomen, when her fingers found their way to his erection he knew she was ready for more. Ichabod returned her to the hood of the car, kissing his way across her body, lavishing nibbles and suckles upon her breasts. Just when Abbie thought she would die if he didn’t put it in he pulled her from the car, spun her around and bent her over the hood. He entered her slowly this time as languidly as a drop of morning dew sliding down a velvety rose petal. A fitting preamble to the care he planned on taking with her.   The sound of her whimpers coupled with the indescribable feel of her when he completed entry bent his back and nearly sent him spiraling out of control. He gritted his teeth together vowing not to depart from his original plan no matter how their bodies yearned for it, even if she begged. If she wanted it harder she could get it, but the pace would stay the same. He knew what she needed, it was the same thing he needed…to make love to her. Before was raw desire born out of sheer want, it couldn’t be slowed or controlled, it could barely be contained, but now with that out of the way he could take the time with her he wanted to before. Touch her in every way he wanted, kiss her neck while she came. Before long he was fighting to control his movements, and muttering quiet damnations as he recognized how close he was to surrendering another batch of seed into her with very little provocation. How was this possible? How is it that she had him this way? Never in his life had he encountered a woman who could break him down as she did, she was far and away the greatest lover he ever had. He stilled his already leisure movements to a halt trying to gather himself before continuing, but she was having no parts of it. She pushed back against him, and pulled herself forward, repeatedly bouncing her ass back and taking what she wanted. She was disciplined though, and knowing that he had been driving into her with long unhurried strokes, she only allowed herself to take it the same way. But even at this pace he was undone. He couldn’t help but to raise his palm and slap it against her ample bottom.

_Smack_.

Her response was instant, she moaned bouncing back about his cock with added speed and determination. She wouldn’t be denied. He ran his palm over the spot he struck massaging it only to lift his hand and let it fall three more times. The pleas slipping from his lips in the form of her name went unanswered, he had no choice but to grip her by the hips and resume thrusting into her. He felt her tighten around him at the very moment of his release, somehow he managed to come even harder than the time before, a couple of loud groans escaped him and he didn’t care who heard. In the end he hunched over her struggling through quiet gasped with his hands clinging to her flesh so tightly he worried he had rubbed away layers of her skin. He would eagerly and happily march into his doom at her direction, never before had there been a free man so imprisoned. He wasn’t behind bars, and bore no shackles, but she was his warden.     

A little later, Abbie stood in the garage nearly fully clothed holding her holster in her hands.

“I just don’t understand, they should have been right by my pants, you took them off at the same time.” Abbie bent down looking under the car. They spent the last ten minutes searching for her panties.

She felt his hand wrap around her arm, and pull her up. “Apple, we have searched top to bottom, I am certain they will turn up sooner or later.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I know Delton hasn’t been around here in a while, but what if…” Abbie stopped midsentence noticing Ichabod chuckling. “What’s so funny?”

Ichabod wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “You..this,” He smiled down at her. “You are going to be an excellent mother, you are already thinking as one.”

Abbie smiled momentarily casting her bashful gaze to the ground before smiling up at him. “You think so?” Ichabod stood straight at his wife’s query.

“I know so.” He replied.

Abbie brought her hand to her mouth and gently tugged her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger. “It just feels crazy, I only got to see him twice this week, you didn’t get to see him at all. I mean I know we get him on the phone every night, but, it’s not the same.”

Ichabod sighed. The apocalypse had been averted, but the pair decided to hold off in adopting Delton until Katrina was settled. He knew Abbie was disappointed, he was as well, but they had to hang in there.

“Abbie“, he said brushing her cheek with the backside of his hand. “You understand that things will not be this way forever. Katrina has learned so much already, soon she will be able to have her own place, and we can get back to being us.”

“Promise.” Abbie asked looking up at him.

“I swear.” He pledged hugging her to him. “Perhaps I will take her to browse apartments in the morrow, I am not certain a house would be the best fit for her just yet.”

“Well I don’t know that she’s quite ready, but maybe by the time the space you find is available she will be. It would be nice to teach her to drive, but maybe if we found something along the bus line it would work out until you were able to teach her.” Abbie sighed, “Then again, maybe it would be better if I taught her, seeing as you learned from my sister who is arguably the world’s scariest driver.”

Ichabod feigned injury. “I am an excellent driver.”

Abbie raised her brows. “Yeah. I know.” She said raising to her tip toes to kiss his lips. “I always feel safe when you’re behind the wheel, I’m just not sure the other drivers on the road feel the same way.” She mumbled under her breath. Ichabod lowered his head and tickled the skin beneath her neck with his lips.

Abbie yelped as he suddenly lifted her from the ground, he could feel her belly contracting as her laughter rang out, echoing through the garage. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d played with her this way until he heard it. It broke his heart a little. They had changed so many things about the way the interacted in an effort to spare Katrina’s feelings. At that moment he vowed to pick her up every single day, and to never go so long without hearing her laugh that way again.

The side door opened abruptly, and the brighter lights switched on.

“Oh God, not again” Jenny cried, closing her eyes. “Sorry!” she added quickly slamming the door.

“Shit.” Abbie sighed, sliding down her husband’s frame, and dashing off after her sister.

“Hey Jenny!”

Jenny and Frank had come over for their weekly movie night, she and Ichabod had canceled last week, and just completely whiffed on tonight. While Frank and Ichabod went down and got the movie set up, Jenny and Abbie pulled together some refreshments.

“Hey I’m not judging you if you want to screw around in the garage, then screw around in the garage. No pun intended by the way, but tell me one thing,” Jenny said leaning over the countertop, “Did you utilize any power tools?” Abbie threw a couple of kernels of popcorn at her sister. “I mean if you’re going to do it, do it right.”

“For the last time we weren’t doing anything…when you came in at least.” Abbie smiled.

“I knew it.”

“You knew nothing.” Abbie countered.

“Bells it was pretty obvious. You’re still glowing, actually. Icky only had on an undershirt, and even though he’d put on a button up by the time he came in, all of the buttons were broken, and to top it all off. Your panties were dangling from one of the hooks in the rafters. You know the one right by the light.”

Abbie flopped her hands over her mouth, as her eye’s bugged clear out of her head. Before long everyone in the house could hear their laughter. Ichabod and Frank just looked at one another and shook their heads.

“The Mills sisters are definitely back together again.” Frank commented.

“As they should be, my friend.” Ichabod smiled.

“You’re right about that.” Frank agreed. “So how’s it been going? You know living with your wife, and your ex-wife, who you never actually divorced.”

“These are not ideal living arrangement’s that much is certain, but it could be far worse.” Ichabod answered.

“So Katrina is taking all of this pretty well then, that’s awesome.”

“I am not certain that I would go that far.” Ichabod’s brows furrowed. “Last week, Abbie had gone to work and I had stepped out for an hour or so. When I returned I called out for her the moment I entered the house. After calling out to her throughout the upstairs I assumed that she was napping in her room, but just as I entered mine and Abbie’s room, and sat my things down she walked out of our bathroom, naked as the day she was born.”

“Whoa, wait, like no towel or anything.” Irving inquired, leaning forward.

“Not a stitch. The troubling thing is that she did not appear surprised or uncomfortable, it was almost as though she wished for me to see her.”

“So what did you do?” Frank asked taking a seat on the sofa.

“I insisted that she cover herself at once, and left the room. She told me later that Abbie had informed her that she was welcome to use her bath from time to time, as it was far superior to the one stationed in her room. That I do not doubt, however.” He blinked, his eyes appearing to be miles away, while he reconsidered the events. “I am certain she heard me enter the room.”

“Damn. Did you mention any of this to Abbie?”

Ichabod sharply turned his head towards his friend.

“You’re right, I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t have said anything either.”

“In the off chance that she was telling the truth, and she did in fact not hear me, Abbie would have never believed it. She will be in her own space soon enough, I simply must remain on guard until then. Never minding that, how are things faring with you. With the Cynthia situation?”

“Same as before, I told you about the proposition she made me.”

Ichabod nodded. “Yes.”

“Well like I told you, I of course told her no, but man.”

“You cannot actually be considering…”

“No. I am with Jenny now, but Mace...you know she’s starting high school next year…high school”

A smile stretched across Ichabod’s face. “She is outstanding Frank, you and her mother have done a fantastic job with her.” He commented.

“Thanks, I would love to have her with me all the time, but she needs her mother too. I’m just happy that I was living with her for the younger years, but the teenage years are just as important and formative. It’s strange, even though I see her a lot, especially this time a year…it’s different not living under the same roof as her. I’ve never really adjusted to it, and before I know it she’ll be heading off to college. I just really want her to know how much I love her, how she is the single most important thing in the world to me.”

Ichabod gave his friend a pat on the back, “I have seen you with her, she adores you, I am certain that she already knows.”

Meanwhile Abbie and Jenny had been in the garage using a rake to pull her panties from the rafters. The moment they reentered the house Jenny started giggling her way through her best Lady Eloise impression.

“Maaaarrcus Daaahrling, I’m not wearing any panties.” She teased.

“Please shut up!” Abbie pleaded. The sisters were surprised to find Katrina standing in front of the countertop, when they made their way back to the kitchen. She discreetly tucked her panties into her pants pocket.

“Hey Katrina, I was just going to come up and see if you wanted to join us for a movie.” Abbie stated. “You look nice.” She added noticing she was all dolled up.

“Thank you. I thought I would try out one of the new dresses that I picked out, and Ichabod has already invited me to join you all.” Abbie couldn’t help but notice something untrue, and counterfeit in the smile that blanketed her face. She turned her attention to Jenny. “Hello Miss Mills, how are you faring this fine evening?”

Jenny grabbed a couple of bites of popcorn, and started getting the drinks together.”

“Jenny.” Abbie said nudging her with her elbow. “Katrina asked you how you’re doing.”

Jenny’s eyes widened with surprise. “Oh! I didn’t hear you, I’m doing quite well, thank you.”

“Good. Well Abigail, unless you require my assistance, I shall see you downstairs.”  

“Nope, we’ve pretty much got it covered. We’ll see you down there.”

As soon as she was positive Katrina was out of earshot Jenny turned to her sister. “What the fuck, why was she whispering, was it a secret. I literally could barely hear a word she said. Is it me?” She asked suddenly wondering if there was something wrong with her hearing. “Do you have any Q-tips?”

“It isn’t you, that’s how she speaks, you’ll get used to it.”

“To hell I will, she’s going to be getting ignored by me a lot, unless she learns to speak up. And am I seeing things or was that your dress, and was she wearing your perfume, Abbie what the hell is going on?”

Abbie slowly shook her head, before walking over to the sink to wash her hands. “I showed her some of my things, just to help her get an idea of today’s fashion, and…I guess she liked some of my pieces so much that she wanted the exact same thing. Same thing with the perfume, even though I tried to explain to her that scents often smell differently on different people. Look.” Abbie tore off a sheet of paper towel and dried her hands. She chewed the inside of her top lip while she figured out how to explain things to Jenny. “She’s in an entire new world, she’s trying to fit in, and I’m the only woman she knows so it’s natural that she would try to emulate me on some level. That’s all it is with the clothes, and perfumes and the lotions…” Abbie rolled her eyes balling up the used paper towel. “And the shoes.” She added tossing it into the wastebasket.

Jenny stood up straight. “Wait a minute she copied your shoes?” She asked in disbelief.

“Now that’s some shit, you just don’t do. Dude your sister wife is super fucking creepy, when is she moving out?”

“I told you to stop calling her that, and as soon as she’s ready, and capable.”

“So you’re just going to put your entire life on hold for this?” Jenny asked.

“It’s the right thing to do. She doesn’t _have_ anyone.”

“So none of this creeps you out at all, come on Bells?”

“A little.” Abbie confessed, “But it’s probably nothing, and it won’t be much longer.” Abbie added grabbing the bowl of popcorn and heading downstairs.

Honestly there were a lot of things about Katrina that she found more than a little creepy. Abbie knew she was still in love with Ichabod, so she expected her to cling to him, or to always try to be close to him. But that’s not all that happened, she clung to Abbie as well. Everywhere Abbie went she wanted to come along. She was constantly asking her questions, everything from what type of music she enjoyed, to what she saw herself doing if she could no longer be a detective. When Abbie told her that she’d probably become a guidance counselor for troubled youth, she wanted to know everything about what they did. Even Ichabod had taken a passing notice to it. He’d commented one evening about how Katrina had taken such a liking to her, but it seemed more than that, Abbie had noticed her quietly watching her on several occasions. It wasn’t as if she had been doing anything worthy of attention either, she could be doing something as simple as making a cup of coffee or, folding a basket of laundry, she always seemed to be watching.

Abbie couldn’t help but feel irritated when she and Jenny came to the bottom of the steps, and saw Ichabod and Katrina seated together, talking on the couch. He looked over at her curiously as she and Jenny took the seats across from them on the loveseat. Her cheeks puffed up and pushed the air through her pursed lips as she sat down.

“Where’s Frank?” Jenny asked, to no one in particular.

“He recused himself to the laboratory.” He answered never taking his eyes off of Abbie. Katrina had sat in the seat he’d intended for Abbie, and he’d had every intention of asking her to slide down once she came downstairs, but Abbie walked directly to the loveseat and plopped down like she’d planned upon sitting there all along. Katrina stopped speaking noticing that she’d lost Ichabod’s attention, she sat forward, and gently tugged at his wrist attempting to regain it.

“Ichabod.” She called.

Ichabod stood to his feet as if he hadn’t heard her say a word. Abbie watched him approaching until he stood before her with his hands knotted behind his back. “Miss Jenny, would you be terribly opposed to exchanging seats with me.” An impish grin spread across Jenny’s face as she lifted herself from the loveseat.

“Sure, but I’m taking the popcorn.” She teased taking the oversized bowl out of Abbie’s hands. Abbie was overcome with giddiness as Ichabod settled in next to her. What was it about him that made her unable to be near him without falling even further into love with him. He uncrossed her legs, and pulled them over his lap. She fought back the urge to hold him, and smother him with kisses, feeling the icy glare streaming from the set of eyes across the room. Even though she was ecstatic that she was getting to spend time with Jenny and Irving, she had a deep yearning to be alone with her husband. She thought back, and couldn’t readily remember the last time they got to be alone together. Looking over at Katrina she wondered if they ever would. As soon as Irving returned the group sat about deciding what movie to watch.

“So does anyone have any ideas?” Jenny asked. “Oh, I know, how about the first season of Big Love?”

Abbie sailed a well-timed throw pillow though the air that bounced off the side of her sister’s head. She had told her repeatedly that she didn’t have a sister wife, the only person Ichabod considered himself married to was her.

“Big Love?” Ichabod echoed, in a curious tone. Another pillow smacked against the side of Jenny’s head before she had a chance to say anything.

“Not important.” Abbie answered dismissively. Eventually they decided upon Legend’s of The Fall, but Abbie could barely keep her eyes open during the opening credits. Two and a half hours later Ichabod was upstairs hugging goodbyes with Jenny and Irving. Jenny’s eyes held to his after she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Take good care of my sister Icky.”

“You have my word.”   He promised. After locking up Ichabod stalked back down the steps to collect his snoozing bride. He knew before they started the movie that she wouldn’t last through it, she’d let go of three yawns before they’d even dimmed the lights. Her week had been long, and he’d asked a lot of her, with running Katrina here and there.

Ichabod stood at the bottom of the steps watching Katrina standing over Abbie’s sleeping figure. “Katrina.”

“Ichabod.” She whipped around to face him, clearly startled by his presence. “I had not realized you returned. I was tidying up a bit when I noticed she seemed quite discomfited in her slumber. I believe she was having some sort of a night terror.”

“Oh.” He replied, moving toward them.

“She really is lovely Ichabod, I understand why you admire her so.” She acknowledged.

“Thank you.” He stated, stepping closer.

Katrina smiled at him, but there was a hint of sadness behind it, and then the smile faded it and the sadness was all that remained.

“Katrina,” he spoke softly, “I will always be here for you. You needn’t worry about being alone. You are a smart, beautiful, woman you will find love again.”

Katrina’s eyes briefly scanned the floor. “You believe so.”

“I do.” He affirmed.

“I suppose you are right, however, I wonder how that shall happen for me when you are the only man that I have ever loved.”

“Patience,” he answered. “I know that this is difficult to say the least but..

“—Difficult? She repeated disdainfully, “Learning to operate a mobile phone is difficult, learning how to log on the internet system was difficult. Watching you look upon another woman in the way that you once looked upon me….and worse still…in a way that you never looked upon me at all, that is something else.”

For once in his life Ichabod Crane was at a loss for words. Was he foolish to think that this could work, that they could all live under the same roof?

Katrina saw how uneasy her statements made him feel, and quickly sought to undo the damage. She had worked far too hard to sacrifice her progress for a momentary fit of jealousy.

“I do not blame you. I understand, you presumed I was no longer living, you moved on. The hour is late,” she said gathering up the last of the cups, and napkins. “Shall we wake Abigail for bed?

“No.” He replied still looking at her, mulling over her words. He barely noticed the spark that shot through her eyes at his reply. He was a sophisticated man, throwing herself at him was useless. She needed to be patient, she learned from her folly last week that attempting to appeal to his baser senses would never work. She had to find a way to win his heart. She was prepared for the long haul, after hundreds of years in purgatory she was built for it, Abigail wasn’t, she needed only to outlast her. But she didn’t think for one moment that things would happen this quickly, the love of her life was standing in front of her telling her that he had no intention of waking his wife for bed, perhaps he was not yet tired, perhaps he wanted to spend the remainder of the evening visiting with her. Her optimism was short lived as she watched him slip his hands beneath the sleeping woman and scoop her up into his arms.

“Good night Katrina, sleep well. Until the morrow.” He nodded as he passed by her clutching Abbie to his chest. Katrina stood there fuming, looking on as he carried her up the basement stairs. She grabbed a photograph of Abigail and Ichabod, pictured with the little boy that Ichabod had gone on and on about. Before she could get a hold of herself, she’d launched it into the wall, watching the wood splinter upon impact. Her shoulders heaved up and down violently as she tried to wrangle her emotions. A few minutes later she used her power to lift the picture frame from the floor and restore the damaged edge. She needed time. Her powers were growing but not nearly as quickly as she needed them to. Every spell she’d ever seen cast to make another fall in love with them ended disastrously, especially for the caster. She wouldn’t risk it. Besides she was much more proficient at eliminating the competition, after all she’d gotten rid of Mary. Still the way he looked at Abbie, she could tell that killing her wouldn’t be enough, he might quite possibly mourn her forever. She needed to harness her power until she was capable of casting the only spell that had a prayer of returning Ichabod to her, she needed to _be_ Abbie. She sat in the basement thinking through her plan a few times making certain she hadn’t overlooked anything. _As soon as my power has grown, I shall lure Miss Mills to a secluded location outside of town, I will have already composed my suicide note. Moments before initiating the ceremony I will ingest enough poison to render my body lifeless within an hour, but not so much that I will be unduly influenced during the ritual. Abbie will die trapped inside of my body, and I will take possession of hers.  Of course Ichabod and I shall have to leave town to get away from that pesky meddling sister of hers, already she seems mistrustful of me. I simply need to buy some time, my welcome here is coming to a close, and soon Ichabod shall usher me into my own dwelling._

Katrina’s fingers slid across the restored photo, her lips curved into a wicked smile at an idea that began growing in her mind.

“Well, this should secure me at least another few weeks.” She said returning the picture to the table.      

 

* * *

                                                                                              

 

Abbie’s eyes blinked open, and quickly shut against the bright sunlight bursting through her window. She breathed in deeply and lay back smiling, enjoying the way the warm rays soaked into her skin. She loved waking up this way, no alarm clock, nowhere that she had to be right away. She stretched her limbs lengthening and pulling her bones and muscles awake. She looked down at her sleep-shirt, and could only vaguely remember Ichabod helping her out of her clothes, and slipping it over her head. She could hear the shower running as she walked toward the bathroom to relieve her bladder. After flushing the toilet, she washed her hands and quickly reached for her tooth brush. She hated when she fell asleep without going through her nighttime ritual, hated the way her mouth tasted in the morning if she went to bed without brushing her teeth the night before. She smiled to herself, she could smell him on her, all over her really. It happened every time they made love, he left his scent, almost as if he were marking his territory or domain. She didn’t realize how much she had missed the smell these last few weeks, it had been so long since they were together she had almost forgotten what it smelled like. It made her so innately happy that scent, faint, and sweet, she almost hated to wash it off. The smell of toothpaste overtook her sense of smell as she started brushing her teeth. Her eyes bounced from wall to wall, scanning the span of the bathroom while she wondered if she should redecorate and add some color. As of late her bathroom was fashioned in all white, boring was the word Jenny used to describe it. Her thoughts were interrupted by a dull ache radiating through the side of her hip. She stood on her tip toes and turned her hip to the mirror. Her mouth opened so wide toothpaste nearly came spilling out, as she peered through squinted eyes. She spit and continued brushing ogling over the silver dollar sized bruise covering her hip. She stood there brushing and staring at it, walking back through her day trying to recall where it came from. She hadn’t seen any action in days, so she knew it couldn’t have come from work. After staring at it a little more closely she realized exactly where she’d gotten it from. Ichabod. She stopped brushing momentarily, and examined her other hip. Yep, it was there. A much lighter version of the bruise on her left hip, almost unnoticeable but it was definitely there, nearly symmetrical to the other one. She drug her hand over it, remembering how tightly he’d gripped her there yesterday evening. He had to, he’d never fucked her quite that hard before, and she never could have stayed still if he hadn’t. She was always impressed by the duality of their intimate sessions, because for as rough as they were on their first go yesterday, they were as gentle and passionate on their second one. Desire rose in her just thinking about it. The water in the shower shut off bringing her from her thoughts, she quickly turned squarely to the mirror over the sink. She didn’t want Ichabod to see the mark he’d left on her if she could help it, she knew that he’d feel terrible if he did. Ignoring the decorative rinsing cups in front she leaned over the sink and filled her cupped palm with water to rinse her mouth.

Ichabod stepped out of the shower reaching for his towel and was immediately mesmerized by the opulent view of his wife leaning over the bathroom sink. One elbow wedged up upon the basin while she flushed her mouth with water. Her glorious posterior poked out into a beam of sunlight that had broken through the third story window like a cat burglar. Almost as if she could feel his eyes trailing over her she turned her head to face him.

“Good morning.” She crooned, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a hand towel.

Ichabod still hadn’t managed to bring his towel away from his side to wipe the water raining from his body. “A wondrous morning, good does it no justice at all.”

“Baby. You’re too sweet.” She chuckled, as she turned, removed her shirt and started out for the hamper.

“A moment.” He stated quickly, causing her to spin around. “Can you stay…only a touch longer, allow me to look upon you, just as you are in this instant in time.

Abbie’s heart nearly stopped, he was serious. She kept her shirt at her side crossing it over her belly to cover her bruise before turning to face him directly. How was it possible that someone who knew her body better than she ever did, could still manage to illicit this kind of response from her. He was her husband, she rested her head next to his every single night, but she couldn’t help but feel bashful when he looked at her in a way that made her feel like she was the only thing that actually mattered. Every time she thought that he couldn’t get any closer to her heart, he took another step forward, and she fell deeper still. Her hair was everywhere, her face was unwashed, and her lips could have probably benefited greatly from a coat of chapstick. She was a mess, but he wanted her to stay a little longer because notwithstanding all of that, he thought she was beautiful. Every single inch of her was filled with love, and when it got to the point where she thought she didn’t have room to house one more drop, he created a new space and filled that too. Ichabod’s mouth opened as he regarded his wife through strips of young light. It should have been illegal, she should have been tried and sentenced to a thousand years in prison for simultaneously possessing a face and a body like that. Her arse alone warranted several centuries, but here she was free as a bird, slaying everything in her path, and he couldn’t see his way out of it. He couldn’t imagine that he ever would.

“Good?” She asked smiling at him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Wondrous.” He reminded her, tilting his head toward the door, letting her know she was free to carry on about her day without her enraptured husband fawning over her. He was brushing his teeth when she returned, completely dry by then but hadn’t bothered wrapping himself in his towel, he’d returned it back to the hook for a second use. In high school girls would constantly fawn over the athlete’s butt’s at the football, and baseball games, she never did. It was never really a part of the male anatomy that interested her. But now this lofty assed man who looked like he really wouldn’t have any cake at all turned her on to the appeal of it, it was nice…firm, muscled. She gave it a rueful slap on her way to the shower, looking back over her shoulder to see his mouth spread into a closed smile around her toothbrush. She hung her towel on the hook. It was wash day so Abbie let the water fall down over her head until it was saturated, her pressed locks begin to wave as the water left them. Just as she was reaching for the conditioner, she heard the shower door open. His gargantuan foot flopped inside of the shower, before he could finish coming in she was already warning him.

“I haven’t washed I’m still dirty.”

He took a step closer to her, raising a brow and donning a devious grin. “So am I.”

 

After their shower Ichabod was sitting at the edge of their bed slipping into his socks when she crawled up behind him snaking her arms around his torso.

“I love you.” She purred, never-minding that she’d said it a hundred times before, feeling the urge to say it a hundred times more. He lit up every piece of her soul, and she needed him to hear it well, and hear it often because one of her worse fears was him not knowing how much she adored him, how much he was loved. He placed his hand over hers, closing his eyes, and letting the feel of her dewy skin draw him toward relaxation.

“I love you, Apple.” He responded. His eyes twinkled as he melted into the feathery kisses she left on his back. He reached back, twisting to wrap an arm around her, and pull her to his lap. She was half dressed fitted with only her undergarments, and a white blouse.

“I am lost without you.” He said skimming his hands up her freshly moisturized legs. They were never affectionate in front of others, it was just something they didn’t do. But when they were alone it was difficult if not impossible for them to keep their hands off of one another. It was the only time the ever got to be free. It was uncanny how a few words, or the simple touch of hand could totally alter their plans. Just moments before they were getting dressed, Ichabod for the purpose of taking Katrina apartment hunting, while Abbie was dressing to surprise Delton with a visit, and then she spread those honeyed clouds she’d been passing off as lips across his back and it was all over. Now the only thing he was concerned about was getting her out of the clothes she’d just put on. Within seconds she was pinned to the bed, legs parted while he ground sensual loops in between them. He left her lips traveling down her body in search of her panties. He wanted to get them off, he wanted her to paint his waist with her wetness…he wanted to taste her.

“What is this?” He asked, eyes instinctually falling to the discoloration on her hip.

“It’s nothing,” she said trying to pull her shirt down to cover the mark, but it was too late he’d already seen the worst of it. He sat up straight, and sat her on the bed next to him so he could examine the bruise more closely. His eyes and mouth stretched wider the closer he got to it, like it became more unbelievable from a closer proximity. She tried again to pull her shirt over it, but he grabbed her hand.

“It’s nothing.” She’d said preemptively.

“Funny, that is not how it appears to me.” He replied, boring holes through her eyes. She was strong, a warrior that could easily defend herself against any attack, but the thought of anyone trying to harm her took him to a different place.

“How did this occur?” He asked in an inquisitorial tone.

“I’m not sure,” she lied, “I don’t remember getting it.” She quickly added in what she was certain was a completely believable fashion.

She turned her eyes away from him as she spoke, and he immediately knew she wasn’t being truthful, she was protecting someone, but who, and why. “Abigail do not lie to me, I am your husband, you needn’t hide anything from me. How did you obtain that bruise? Did someone…” his fingers tightened into fists as he spoke. “Did someone cause this to happen to you?” He spoke low and slowly, finding it difficult to speak through his rising anger. It only grew more intense when he saw the alarm in her eyes as she replied.

“No.” She shook her head. He stopped speaking, and stared at her with a face that made it clear he didn’t believe her for two seconds. She could tell that he was sitting there devising his own account of the events that led to the mark across her skin. One that was undoubtedly murky, and horrendous, and light years away from what actually occurred. Abbie could see darkness growing in his eyes with every passing second until finally his hands began shimmer with light. She grabbed a hold of them trying to rein him in before it was too late.

“Stop. Listen to me.” She said releasing him, and cupping her hands to the sides of his face. “It was an accident, and clearly I’m not hurt.”

Ichabod’s jaw was clenched shut. He knew the risks. Knew of her profession, and chose to become involved with her anyway, but he didn’t have to like it, he worried about her all the time. A few nights after Moloch’s death he’d asked her to consider leaving the force, citing that they were no longer in need of money, and she could focus more of her energy on doing the things she loved. Her singing, painting, her work at the orphanage, whatever she desired. But she wouldn’t hear of it, she maintained that she was out there on the streets everyday, and knew that the community needed her, she felt that she was making a difference. But this wasn’t that, if this was a bruise she obtained in the line of duty from some perp off the street she would have said so. She was protecting someone, and he didn’t know who, or why, but he was going to find out.

“Give me their name.” Ichabod stated standing to his feet. Abbie bit her bottom lip raising her eyes to the ceiling, hating that she’d already lied to him once, not wanting to lie to him again. “No.”

“No?” He repeated as if he couldn’t believe she’d said the word. “Give me the name.”

“Honey no, calm down.”

“I will as soon as I have the name of the person or persons who’ve done this to you and they have been dealt with appropriately.” Abbie knew that he wasn’t going to let this go, she knew if she didn’t stop trying to protect him they would be arguing about her career before the days end. She was a cop, part of that meant that she might get hurt sometimes protecting and serving other people, but he hated the thought of her risking herself when he wasn’t fighting alongside her. What the hell was he going to do if she got hurt for real, it was one little bruise. She sighed heavily and gave him what he was asking for.

“Ichabod Crane.”

“Do not Ichabod Crane me, I have every right—” He stopped speaking abruptly noting the equanimity in her eyes. She wasn’t chastising him, she was answering him.

“No. But….No.” He took a seat on the bed next to her.

“Baby.” She said calmly, but he wasn’t listening. His eyes stayed trained on her bruise as he tried to make sense of things. She could see that he didn’t fully comprehend how it had occurred so she took his hand and placed it over the spot, showing him how his thumb lined up with the darkest part of the bruise.

“Yesterday…the garage.” She said quietly.

Ichabod’s mind drifted back to the day before when his hands tightened around her hips. He let out a heavy sigh, and closed his eyes as his shoulders sank. How could he have been so foolish, he’d been cocksure, and boastful, overly concerned with proving a point, with showing her who Chloe belonged to, instead of showing her who his heart belonged to.  He pushed himself from the bed and made his way to their bedroom window. His arm stretched out to anchor himself to the windowsill as he looked off at the world outdoors. They spent every day shielding and protecting each other from the world outside, he was good at it, he never thought that she would need protection from his love. He heard her stepping towards him moments before her hand traipsed up his back.

“Hey.” She said softly. “Look at me.” But he couldn’t, what was he thinking last night. She took hold of his arm and turned him around to her.

“I’m okay.” She assured him. “It doesn’t hurt, not now, and I definitely didn’t feel any pain while it was happening, or in the shower for that matter, and you were actually touching the same areas, it felt…” An uncontrolled smile painted her lips as she remembered how wonderful their encounters were. She turned her head to the side unable to fully express her feelings. Abbie looped her arm through his and walked him back over to have a seat on the bed.

“What are you thinking?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Presently. I am thinking of severing my hand from my body.” He answered.

“Stop it.” She ordered, slipping her hand around a few of his fingers. You have love wounds all over your body, are you angry or disappointed in me?” She asked taking notice of the scratches covering his back and waist. Her fingers travelled his side until they came to his shoulder and circled around the small bite mark she’d just given him in the shower. She didn’t normally bite him, she didn’t usually need to, but all this being quiet was much easier said than done. She supposed it would have helped had he been more predictable, or even if she could somehow control the way her body responded to him, but she couldn’t, and their stint in the shower was a testament to that. One moment she was jammed up against the shower wall giving just as well as she took, and the next she was coming, abruptly, literally out of the blue. If she could have seen it coming she could have prepared for it, perhaps it wouldn’t have hit her so hard, then again if he wouldn’t have hit _it_ so hard, if he wouldn’t have done so while muttering filthy obscenities about how they shouldn’t leave the room at all, how he wished that the two of them just remain secluded and fuck all day, things might have happened differently. But they didn’t and sinking her teeth into his flesh was the only thing she could think to do to keep from screaming and crying to the high heavens.

“Apple please, it is not the same. A few scratches and soft bites as compared to, as compared to…” He couldn’t even say it he merely looked towards the large black and reddened mark covering her side. His fist tightened and if he were anywhere near a wall he would have hurled it through it. Abbie sat up on her knees, wrapped her hands around his, and brought them to her lips.

“Stop beating yourself up,” the edge in her voice letting him know that she was exhausted of him coming down on himself for something he never intended to do. “I mean it. I love these hands, and these fingers, I love the man they belong to. Sometimes I think I need them more than you do.” She stated.

“I hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

He frowned. He’d never had anything happen like this before, never loved anything so much that he held it tight enough to leave a mark. “It will not happen again.” He promised.

“That’s a shame.” She said kissing his cheek. “Because, I kind of loved it. Since I was a little girl, I’ve always carried this…I don’t know I guess it’s a kind of pain. Not just from things that have happened in my life, but things that I saw happening to others whether they were people I knew, or people I’d only read about or heard of, I’ve always held on to things I shouldn’t. When I’m in your arms, whether simply like this.” She said pulling his arms around her. “Or…the way we were yesterday, or in the shower, those are the only times that I can’t feel any pain at all, those are the only times that I let _everything_ go.” She pushed his hair back and left soft kisses against his temple. ”What you do to me…what you do for me…no one can make me feel that way…I don’t want you to change anything.” She whispered.

“This,” She said tracing a circle around the bite mark on his shoulder, “came from love.” Abbie took his hand and gently placed it over her bruised hip. “The same way this did. You know me.” She murmured against his lips. “I wouldn’t be here if I thought for one second that you were capable of hurting me.”   His fingers gently caressed her tender area, as she pressed her lips to his. He slipped his still minty tongue between her lips, sucking them as he went. Ichabod wrapped his hand around his wife’s leg and sat her on top of him, letting her feel him growing between her meaty thighs. His back flattened against the mattress, as he pulled her with him. The muscles in her abdomen jumped as his finger closed around it, his thumbs dipped beneath the straps of the panties he’d just watched her slip into. He held on to her waist, watching her quietly as she sat up straight, and pulled herself out of her shirt and bra. He’d seen them so many times, but still hadn’t managed to learn how to not hold his breath when she took her bra off for him. They were perfect, and his eyes told her as much. Her cool fingers spread across his bare chest as she straddled him, grinding slow circles over his member. After a moment he sat up and flipped her over, crawling over her tiny body as he vowed to place his lips upon every inch of her skin.   She was so many things to him, so many things on her own, strong, and powerful, yet delicate, possessing a frailty that only he was privileged enough to witness. She was so exposed with him, he had access to all of her, and she trusted him not to abuse such privileges, not to hurt her, that’s why he was so upset with himself, he never wanted to let her down. His mouth feathered over the bruising, as he looked up at her with an apology in his eyes, one that her eyes eagerly accepted, as she stretched her fingers through his hair. He slipped her panties off and used his mouth, along with those fingers that she loved so much to devour every corner of her box. Before he was finished, she’d come three times, his favorite being the last. He lay next to her using only his fingers and thumb, watching her the entire time as she rose and rose like a firework that climbed to spectacular heights, only to burst into a million vibrant pieces of color across the night sky. He was riveted. When she made her way back to earth she slinked over him kissing his lips before slipping down his trunk. Her eyes stared directly into his until closing the exact second her mouth closed around his erection. She didn’t know if she was improving, if her techniques had finally been perfected, or if he had simply gotten wound up watching her rise and fall so many times, but he was barely in her mouth twenty seconds before he stopped her. He sat forward pulled her up his frame.

“Come Apple, I want to watch you let go of everything.” He whispered as he lifted her to his lap.

 

A few hours later the pair finally managed to leave the comfort of their bedroom. They were hoping to spend the day with Delton, Ichabod having changed his mind about taking Katrina apartment hunting, resolving instead to make time for it on a day that Abbie had to work. They looked all around the house to invite Katrina along, or in the least inform her that they were leaving but they couldn’t find her anywhere.

Abbie stepped outdoors, and perused the backyard. “You don’t think it’s possible that she’s still sleeping do you.” She asked. Ichabod frowned looking down at his wristwatch.

“It is unlike her to stay in bed until such a late hour, however I suppose it is possible. Do you want to go up and…”

Abbie shook her head before he could finish asking. “No, it’s fine, I trust you. Go on.”

He took her hand and pulled it to his lips. “I will return before you shall have a chance to miss me.”

“Not possible.” She said quietly after he’d already bounded up the stairs.

 

Ichabod tapped on the oak door. “Katrina.” He knocked and called again after there was no answer. The second time he heard a soft muffled reply.

“Yes, one moment please.”

The door opened, and Ichabod’s heart immediately went out to her. There were tears streaming down her face, and she looked as though she had been at it all morning. She had yet to dress for the day, and remained cloaked in her sleeping gown, and house-shoes. He stepped forward.

“Katrina what is it, what’s happened.”

“Ichabod, I…” She broke into sobs trying to get the words out. Ichabod took her by the hand and walked her back to her bed.

“Whatever it is, it will be alright. Let me make you a cup of tea, and you can tell me all about it.” She grabbed his hand before he could head off downstairs, she already had him right where she wanted him.

“It is just…” She stymied her sobs, and continued on in a heartbroken voice.” This morning when I woke, I happened a glance at the cellular telephone you provided me and I noticed the date, this is the date that I gave birth to our son.” Ichabod had a seat on the bed next to her. None of the records he found had given the date of Jeremy’s birth, he had wondered about it for some time. She was lying their sons birthdate was nearly two weeks off but Ichabod would never be the wiser.

A few minutes later he trudged somberly back down the stairs. He found Abbie waiting for him in the kitchen.

“I just got off the phone with Sister Corra, and we are all set to pick Delton up for the day, I know it’s premature but do you think we could maybe get the paperwork rolling. Baby?” For the first time Abbie stopped speaking and looked at the sorrowful expression blanketing her husband’s face.

“Wasn’t she up there, is she okay, what’s wrong?” She asked placing her palms on his belly.

“She is.” He answered taking her hands. “She has just informed me that today is the date that she…” He paused taking a moment to return the bass to his voice. “that she gave birth to our son.”

“Oh.” Abbie’s shoulders slumped. “Sweetie I’m so sorry.” She touched her hand to his cheek, trying to provide any comfort she could. The pain in his eyes was heartbreaking. “Come here.” She said wrapping her arms around him. “What can I do, I’ll do anything to help you through this.” Ichabod circled his arms around his wife.

“You already have done so much, you are the solitary reason for which I can go on, knowing how severely I have failed as a father.”

Abbie held back the tears she felt making their way to her eyes. When he left only minutes before he was happy, not like contentment or a nothing’s going wrong so I’m happy type of happy, he was exuberantly happy. She could see the energy and power bursting through him with every step he took, but that was the Ichabod who climbed the stairs, the one who lumbered back down them was a different man. They usually didn’t speak of Jeremy, not because there was nothing to say, even in the beginning it was clear that there were feelings there that he could have benefited from unloading. He just couldn’t. It was his deepest hurt, he guarded it, and separated it from every other part of himself. He kept it hidden, and….she let him. She knew that he wasn’t ready for it not to hurt anymore, and if he exposed it, by bringing it to the light or putting it in the air, he would began to heal, and he didn’t want to….he _needed_ to feel this. She always knew or hoped at least that one day when he felt that he’d punished himself enough, and he was ready to lay it down and put it to rest, she would be there for him, and they would do it together. But he would choose the day, and he would hold the shovel. But she couldn’t stand by and let him torture himself this way.

“Sweetie, you did _not_ fail, you _know_ that…you didn’t know.”

“Yes I know but I cannot help but to feel that I _should_ have known, I _should_ have been there. I helped to create him and did nothing to protect him.” He relented fighting back the tears that pooled in his eyes. She touched her palms to his cheeks.

“You would have been a won-der-ful father, you didn’t. get. the chance. It’s horrible, and heartbreaking, but Sweetie it was not your fault.” She watched as her words tried to reach him, but he shook them off like a dog flinging excess water from a bath.

“Nonetheless, Katrina has asked me to carry her to the location where she believed him to be buried, it is a vast area, but we are hopeful that we will find his gravesite.”

“Alright. Okay well, I’m sure the sisters haven’t told Delton we were coming just yet I could call and reschedule.” There was a little glint in his eye that made her realize that perhaps they wanted to go alone. “Oh.”

“Abbie.”

“No, I’m…sorry, I didn’t mean to…” She stammered running a hand through her hair, ruffling her curls.

“Abbie.” He repeated grabbing her arm.

“Sweetie, I mean it, it’s fine. I’m fine. You both…you both lost a child, and you need to be able to pay respect to that, you don’t need people tagging along. I agree, this is something that you guys need to do with each other.” She reasoned.

“She did indeed ask if it were possible that the two of us go unaccompanied. Katrina…she feels an immense amount of guilt for leaving him. Also the way in which it all came to be…she holds a kernel of resentment…” The look on his face told her that there was more to this story but he was almost afraid to say it.

Abbie slowly pulled her neck back as she realized what he meant. “With my ancestor’s.” Her eye’s scanned the floor as she bit her top lip. The details they’d discovered surrounding Jeremy’s death were incomplete, and sketchy at best. They knew that after Grace and Joseph were killed in a fire, he was taken to an orphanage, and that the director of that orphanage was an abusive sociopath. When Jeremy was around ten the director of the orphanage was killed, Jeremy fled giving way to suspicion that he was the one who perpetrated the crime, not even a full week later it was reported that he was dead, how, and why they did not know, though they suspected that he’d been killed by the remaining members of Katrina’s coven. Abbie found it ironic that Katrina blamed her ancestors who actually tried to help Jeremy, instead of her former friends who wanted him dead, but that was a conversation for another day. It didn’t matter, and though she was sorry for all that she lost, what Katrina thought didn’t matter. But Ichabod was another story.

“Do you feel the same?” She asked bringing her eyes from the floor.

He tilted his head to the side. “How can you ask me such a thing, of course not, Abbie, it was an accident, I am positive that Grace and Joseph did everything in their power to protect Jeremy. Katrina is….grieved.” She believed him, she knew that even notwithstanding her families connection to Jeremy, Katrina wouldn’t have wanted her there, and as the mother of his child he was respecting her wishes.

“Please tell Katrina that I am unspeakably sorry for her loss. And you know how sorry I am that this happened to you. I love you.” She raised up pressing a kiss to his cheek, when she tried to return her heels to the ground he wrapped his arms around her, and held her in place. He squeezed her so tightly, that she knew this hug encompassed all of the emotions coursing through him. He was fearful and sorrowful because he was going to the burial site of the child whose death he still blamed himself for, and he didn’t know what to expect. Apologetic because he had essentially just told his wife that she wasn’t welcome to come somewhere with him, even though he wanted her there more than anything.

“If you so choose I will tell her that you will be joining us.” He said quietly. He placed his palm over her heart. “There is nothing more important to me than this.”

“I know, and…no.” She answered placing a hand over his. “I’m fine…go and lay your son to rest.” She lifted their hands and pressed them to Ichabod’s chest. “I’ll be with you here.”

“Perhaps you and I can visit his grave another day.” He said placing a soft kiss against the hair covering the side of her head. “I would very much like you to.” He added.

“I would like that.” She responded softly, before kissing him goodbye and gathering up her purse. “If you need me.” She added holding her phone up. He nodded his reply and watched her head out of the door.

 

* * *

 

Abbie spent the entire day hanging out with Delton, they tooled around town, park hopping for a while. After dinner they even found time to catch a show at the planetarium. His eyes were still wide with wonder when they got to the parking lot. Abbie couldn’t keep from smiling, pleased at how much he enjoyed it.

“Well did you like it?” She asked already knowing the answer.

“Oh my gosh Miss Abbie, I loved it. It was the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen in my whole entire life.” He answered, arms flailing out across the backseat.  

Abbie brought her hand to her belly laughing it his enthusiastic response, she couldn’t have asked for a better reaction.

She looked back at his mind-blown expression through the rearview mirror. “I’m happy you had so much fun, I did too.”

“Thank you so much for bringing me, you and Mr. I do so many nice things for me, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, we care a lot about you, you know that right.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good, don’t ever forget that. You are loved.” She stated.

The little boys lips pursed into a goofy grin that grew so big he had no choice but to let it develop into a full smile. “I love you too, Miss Abbie, and Mr. I.” Abbie watched as the bright smile that had just graced his face disappeared.

“D, what’s the matter?” She asked spinning around so she could see his face directly. He opened his mouth, but closed it instead of answering her. He turned his head, and stared out of the window.

In a voice much smaller than his own she heard him say. “Did I do something wrong. Is Mr. I angry with me?”

Abbie looked at him in amazement. “What? D, no. What would ever make you think that?”

“Well normally I get to see both of you, but it seems like I don’t get to see him as much anymore. I haven’t seen him since my lesson. That was last week.” He answered, sadly.

“Oh Sweetie” Abbie stated heartbroken. “Mr. I, loves you _very_ much. He has been having to help one of his family members with a few things.

“But I thought that _you_ were his family.”

“I am. But, he has other family members too.”

“Like the lady he brought to my fencing lesson, the one with the red hair, Katerina.”

“Katrina. Yes, she’s his family too. But he isn't angry at you, or disappointed in you, he loves you, and he misses you _very_ much.” Abbie could see that there was still a bit of uncertainty in Delton’s expression, so she tried to think of another way to explain things to him. “Do you remember when I was sick, and I couldn’t come visit you for a little while.”

“Yes.”

“Well I still wanted to see you, I just couldn’t. Same thing.” Abbie waited a bit and watched as his smile was restored.

“Okay.” He finally said.

“Alright?” She double checked.

“Alright.

Abbie smiled at him. “Okay. Put your seatbelt on.”

As soon as Abbie pulled into the parking lot at the orphanage she spotted Ichabod’s car. He was standing in the hallway talking with Sister Corra when they entered the building.

Delton who was just bouncing through the door, after holding it open for Abbie, spotted him, and took off sprinting in strides that looked far too long for his legs. Abbie shook her head, seeing him running and screaming “Mr. I” like he’d just seen his favorite superhero, and then suddenly it dawned on her, he had.   As soon as he was close enough Delton leaped up like his tennis shoes had springs, and Ichabod snatched him out of the air, hoisting him up like he was a child half his age. Each of them clung to one another like they hadn’t seen each other in seven months, instead of seven days. Abbie could see the happiness in Ichabod eyes when he returned the boy to the ground. Both of them cheesing like Chester the Cheshire cat. Abbie was surprised to see him, with everything he had on his plate for the day, she thought for sure he would be a wreck by the time she got home. He stopped chattering with Delton, long enough to kiss her hello, and check in with her when she approached. Her breath stopped, and heart sped up as his hand touched the side of her waist. She wasn’t expecting to see him here, and the short walk from the parking lot indoors wasn’t enough time to prepare her. His scent filled every cavity of her being, and a jolt of electricity pulsed up through her chest, as her mind quickly flashed through the things he’d done to her that morning.

“Hey,” she stated, offering her cheek, and eyeing him with an inquisitive gaze, that he knew translated into her inquiring as to his wellbeing.

“Hello.” He nodded, returning her gaze with a look that indicated he would fill her in later. “I tried calling.”

Abbie’s face filled with confusion, she hadn’t remembered hearing her phone ring. “You did? But…Oh my gosh, I turned it off and I just…” She didn’t want to say that she forgot to turn it back on, because she didn’t want him to think that she wasn’t thinking about him, she was, all day, but somehow she didn’t remember to turn her ringer back on. “I didn’t turn it back on. I’m sorry.” Ichabod leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead.

“I understand. So what is this I hear about the two of you attending a production at the planetarium?”

Abbie grinned. “How did I know that was going to be the first thing you told him about?” She asked, rubbing Delton’s head.

The words hopped out of his mouth at an incredible speed. “Because it was spectacular, it was amazing Mr. I, you would have loved it, it was awesome, do you remember all of the constellation’s you and Miss Abbie showed me….” Abbie and Sister Corra decided to give them a minute to catch up, realizing they weren’t going to get a word in edge wise. They headed to the office so Abbie could sign Delton back in. After visiting with the sisters for a while Abbie finally headed back to Delton’s lodgings, he was still without a roommate since his best friend had been adopted. Abbie came to the doorway at the tail end of what seemed to be a deep conversation. Delton sat on his bed, while Ichabod sat in a chair he had pulled up just in front of him.    

“I want you to always remember how important you are to me, can you promise me that?”

“Yes sir.” The little boy said fully aware that what Mr. I was saying was meaningful, that it was important, and he should try his best to remember, even if he couldn’t quite understand why.

“Earlier when I arrived, Sister Corra informed me that your behavior has been exemplary.   She says that you are following directions stating that you woke and made your bed every day this week without being told. Also I have been informed that you are being kind and courteous with others, and that you are constantly helping with the younger children. Have you any idea how proud I am of you, how happy it made me to hear that.”

Delton was beaming, it had felt like forever since he’d gotten to spend time with Mr. I, and it always felt good when he was pleased with him. There were a few times earlier in the year when he had gotten into trouble during school, and Mr. I had let him know that he was not pleased with him at all. Mostly he’d gotten into trouble during school by staring out of the window and failing to pay attention while the teacher was speaking. Ichabod was really disappointed in him at first, but after he looked through some of his schoolwork, he realized that he was quite a ways ahead of the rest of the class, and drifting off due to boredom. He spoke to the Director of Curriculum and helped to come up with a more specialized lesson plan for him.      

“How happy?” Delton chimed.

“Almost as happy as when I saw you holding the door open for Miss Abbie today. Do you know why I am so proud to learn and hear all of these things?

“No sir.”

“Because…I have not been here in many days, still you have done all of the things that I asked of you and more, and you did things because you knew that they were your duties, not because you were afraid that you would get into trouble if you did not. Delton…that is called integrity. I need you to always do the things that you know in your heart to be right. Can you promise me that you will always be true to yourself, and good to the people around you?

“I promise.” The boy said slowly, making a mental note of what he’d just promised to do.

“Alright then.” Ichabod said stretching his arms around him. Ichabod generally wasn’t affectionate with Delton as his father was never overly affectionate with him, but tonight was different.

“I love you.” Ichabod whispered when he released him.

“I love you too Mr.I.” Delton replied.  

A little later Abbie and Ichabod headed out to the parking lot.

“He had like a million things to tell you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.” Abbie gushed.

“He was sorely missed as well, I do not believe I could have gone another day without seeing him, especially this day in particular.” Ichabod pulled Abbie into his arms as the pair stopped in front of her car to finish their conversation. It was warm and muggy that night, the kind of night when you can actually feel the weight of the air. The parking lot was quiet, and if they didn’t know any better it would have seemed that they along with the crickets who sang from a nearby flower bed were the only creatures that inhabited the universe. The nearest lamppost was ten paces off, and the light from it just barely reached where they were stationed.

“Sorry again I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.” She said taking him by the hand. The look in his eyes worried her, even more so then some of the little things he’d said during his conversation with Delton, she was almost afraid to ask. “So were you able to find his grave?”

“Yes. We were able to locate it. That is part of the reason I phoned…It was empty.”

“Empty?!” She repeated as her eyes stretched wide. “Wait a minute but how could you know that unless…unless you…you dug up the grave!” She said stunned. He opened her car door, and nodded his direction for her to get in.

“Ichabod.” He held up a finger and closed the door. Abbie sat back watching through the windshield as he scurried to the other side of the car and slipped into the passenger seat. Abbie listened attentively as her husband explained to her that upon their arrival in the general area where they presumed Jeremy to be buried, they couldn’t find his gravesite anywhere. Just as they had given up hope and began retreating to journey back to the vehicle, a bird from out of nowhere landed directly in front of their path. Ichabod took this as a sign and followed it for the better part of a mile until they came upon a grave hidden away from the others. It was so old they could barely make out the etchings of the shattered stone that sat atop it. After much inspection it was clear that the inscription on the stone was a J followed by the letter C. Katrina seemed certain that this must have been the grave belonging to Jeremy, but Ichabod needed to be sure for himself, and there was only one way he knew how. They travelled back to the vehicle to retrieve a shovel, and dug up the grave in order to have the remains submitted for DNA testing. Katrina was angry with him, insisting that they should under no circumstances disturb the dead, but he needed to know.

“And it was completely empty?” Abbie asked. “As in he was never there?”

“Not completely. He answered, raising an eyebrow. “There was a small doll that Katrina had stitched for him, crafted and fortified with a power enabled to protect him if he should have ever met harm. Though the power of it, Katrina stated, had somehow been destroyed. Ichabod dipped his fingers into his front shirt pocket. “And then there was this.” He added, handing Abbie a folded scrap of antiquated paper, “I found it slipped just inside of a removable panel located at the head of his coffin. Abbie brought the piece of paper closer to her face, examining the small crest at the top of it. “I know this mark, why do I…” It dawned on her where she’s seen the mark just as Ichabod spoke the words out loud.

“Grace Dixon. Katrina and I recognized it as well.”

Abbie reached up and tapped on her inside car light in order to read the note. “If you are reading this, then I have long returned to the spirit from which I was born. All of my hope and prayers have rested upon you finding the second witness, or her finding you. I wonder if she is there with you now. Did the book that I left behind assist you in your mission? Is that mission complete? But I digress, what we all would give to happen a pre-survey of what is on the other side of the hill while we are still standing in the valley. Returning to the issue at hand, Ichabod, due to the horror and hardship encumbered in your life, I came upon one of the greatest gifts in mine. I have loved your little boy, since the very day he came to me. I know with full certainty that Joseph and I could not have loved him more had he grown inside of my belly. I had hoped to keep and protect him from all harm, but the necessity of this letter signifies that I have not. There are others who want him, not because they love him, not because they hope to help him, but for the sole purpose of draining the magical energy that courses through every vein in his body, and what an energy it is. They have attempted to steal him once before, but his fear ignited a fire that woke Joseph and I, and alerted us to the intruders’ presence. I was able to cast a protection spell to ward them off, however I can feel them trying to find a way around my defenses. I have called upon friends to watch over Jeremy in the event that something dark befalls Joseph and I. A doll that Katrina gave him holds the power to shift to life if he meets harm. This is dark power, cultivated to protect him from any foe, by any means necessary. If it is birthed into the world, it will reign damnation upon not only those who endanger the child, but ultimately the child himself. With every life it is forced to take, he will become more and more entwined with an inescapable darkness. The beast’s presence will signal to my confidants that Jeremy is no longer safe in this world and they will see him on his way to the only place where I believe he will find rest without you. He is far more aware of the world around him than many will ever know, for he has metaphysical gifts deeply inscribed upon his soul. He is a good boy, and all that I have done, I have done to ensure that he remains that way. Heed my words. The boy who is too awake in the land of the living, sleeps peacefully, suspended in time, in the land of those who know not their way home. Only the gaze from one of God’s chosen eyes can wake him, but to traverse the plane you must look to your hearts. I pray that the Lord’s grace protects and keeps you, for no one will rejoice at it more than, dear Sir, your most humble servant, Grace Dixon.”

Abbie’s lips parted, as the note slipped from her fingertips. “Who know not their way home?” Abbie repeated curiously. Her eyes widened, as she slowly came to realize what Ichabod had discovered, he waited anxiously for her to figure it out.

“He’s in The Lost Realm.” She turned to face her husband, still unable to close her mouth as the news sunk in. “Baby, your baby…is alive.” The astonishment was still heavy in her voice.

Ichabod bore a gaping smile as Abbie’s fingers tightened around the front of his shirt. “He’s alive.” She smiled.

“He is, my love, praise God he is. Never in my wildest dreams, did I dare to imagine such a miracle. Your ancestor saved my son, she was a mother to him in every sense of the word, seeing to his protection even beyond her death.” Ichabod rejoiced as he pulled her over the divider onto his lap. They sat there, both of them locked in the others embrace stunned by the truths that had literally been unearthed. After a while Abbie pulled back nuzzling and peppering tiny kisses across Ichabod’s face. She knew how much it crushed him that his son had lost his life before he was ever given a chance to live it, and how much he blamed himself that he wasn’t able to protect or look after him the way that a father should.  The lost world was just that, a realm that once entered was impossible to escape, souls cast there became lost, but Jeremy wasn’t banished there as a punishment, he was placed there for protection. They’d read all about the difficulties of navigating that particular plane when the first encountered the Book of Realms, but she had to believe that there was a reason that Grace had secreted him there. A reason why they were the only ones who could wake him. There had to be a way out, she wouldn’t have gone through all of that trouble if there wasn’t, they only had to find it.

Katrina was back home on pins and needles. She hadn’t seen this coming. It was her hope that the mere act of visiting Jeremy’s gravesite would cause Ichabod to hold closer to the life they once shared. In the very least she thought it would deter him from asking her to leave the house for a while. But this, was more than she bargained for. Now he was sputtering nonsense about their son being alive, and contemplating entering a realm that he had no chance of returning from. All based upon the scribbling of some idiotic woman who failed in completing the one meaningful task she was charged with, protecting their son. She had to figure out a way to deter him from going. Tears streamed from her cheeks, she loved her son, but if the letter was correct and he was indeed asleep in that terrible place, it was a better fate than she imagined he’d met. There was no point in Ichabod dying in what would surely be a failed attempt to free him.

The next day the witnesses along with Katrina and Jenny, travelled to Gideon’s to find out what he knew of the Realm. They’d spent the morning going over everything they had learned about it. The lost realm was a place that was spatially just beyond purgatory, but once entered all concept of space and even time were lost. Unlike purgatory, the souls there were irredeemable, many having committed offenses against mankind so heinous that it was unimaginable their humanity could ever be restored. More often than not, the monsters that roamed the realm were never even human at all. After lunch Gideon asked Ichabod and Abbie to join him for an evening stroll. It was a warm, but windy day, there was light on the other side of the clouds but you never would have known it looking at the sky. The trio walked along the creek until they came to rest upon a few large stones slated beneath a giant weeping willow. They talked at length under the hazy sky. Abbie looked out at the acres of green grass and trees and knew that even they weren’t enough to brighten this gray and downcast day.

“I am sorry that I cannot be more of a help.” Gideon stated, staring at the man and woman he still saw as children. They sat across from him sharing a seat on the stone, side by side, the way he always remembered seeing them when they were small. They’d sneak off together, venturing out to watch the suns set, and trollop through the fields. He let them because he always knew that they would look out for one another. Thinking back on it now, had he paid any attention it would have been clear who they were.  “I know that this is not what you have come to hear, and I am by no means all knowing, but from what I do know this mission…” Gideon raised his head to meet their doleful eyes. “Is suicide. No soul has ever returned from the realm of the lost.”

There was a long silence that seemed to stretch minutes past his words. After a moment Abbie found the strength to search her husband’s eyes, but found that he could barely look at her.

Ichabod stood and thanked Gideon before excusing himself for a moment. He was distraught, and needed some time alone to compose himself and battle through his feelings of hopelessness. Abbie and Gideon exchanged gazes that said what they already knew…he was going to go anyway. It was who he was.

“I know that you’re frightened Abigail, but be proud. He is more of a man, than I ever hoped he would be.”  

She wanted to cry, but there was no use, it wasn’t to going change anything, it wasn’t going to help at all. There was no time for tears anyway, she needed to figure out a way for them to enter into and return from the lost realm.  

“I just don’t understand why Grace would send him there, unless she knew something…unless there was another way.” Abbie questioned.

“You may very well be correct. I simply cannot assure it.” Gideon answered. They thought that this was a journey that they could go on together, and possibly stay grounded in one another long enough to avoid getting lost. But Gideon had quickly explained that an ordinary anchor would have no hope of helping them find their way back to earth, only one of them could go. Ichabod of course immediately decided that it would be him.

“Gideon.” Abbie said softly. “Which one of us has the best chance at returning?”

“He would never allow…”

“—Gideon please. What are his chances? What are mine?”

The old man sighed as his eyes turned to the water. “He will not return.” A soft sob broke away from Abbie at hearing the blunt truth that Gideon had tried to deliver much softer earlier.

“There is no way for you to jump him into The Lost Realm without risking becoming lost yourself. He will have to travel through purgatory which is a journey in and of itself. By the time he gets to the realm his mind will already be weary, and it will surely overcome him. You have a better chance than any man, but I fear even it will not be enough.”

That was all that she needed to hear. He would die, she might not. Abbie looked over toward Gideon’s woodworking barn, and further down the creek where Ichabod stood staring off into space. She glanced back toward the house and saw Jenny in the window looking out after her brother in law, undoubtedly able to see that something was troubling him. Katrina stood beside her. Abbie thought of taking a day just to spend more time with them. Ichabod, Jenny, and Delton. But she cringed at the idea of pretending that she was okay with him going, knowing that he wouldn’t return, and she couldn’t ask him not to go, Jeremy was his son. She needed to love him like he was hers, and if he was hers, she would go.

She stood and walked over to Gideon and wrapped her arms around him. He overpowered the water brewing in his eyes and caught her by the shoulders as she pulled away. His spoke in a quiet, rapid tone sensing that Ichabod could return at any moment.

“Take the greatest care. Do you remember how I cautioned you all against travelling near the outer end when you were young souls, during your training?

“Yes.”

The outer end borders The Lost Realm, purgatory blankets it on one side, the world that we came from on the other, however when you are there you will not be able to determine which way is which, it will all appear the same causing you to travel in circles. Look up. I can never recall a child who watched the stars as constantly as you, surely you have a better chance as any of following the skies. When searching for the boy, choose a direction and stay that direction, you will be mightily tempted to change course, do not, lest you will surely be lost. You will have to hunt through the realm in lines, not circles, trust your instincts. Finally it will be difficult to jump from that realm, but we will be here pulling for you, focus on that, focus on us. Godspeed.”

Abbie released a few tears as Gideon pulled her in for a second hug. Her eyes turned back to the greatest joy her life had ever known.

“I’m going to do everything I can to get back.” She vowed. “But if for some reason this journey doesn’t end the way we hope it does…don’t let him wait forever for me to come home. Tell them that I was happy here, with them, and that…I’ve loved them most of all.”  With that Abbie headed off toward the barn. Gideon watched her rounding the corner just as Ichabod came over to rejoin them.

“Where is she heading off to?” He asked Gideon, glancing off in that direction. It was only then that he looked at his mentor’s face.   His body went numb and it felt as if the wind stopped, even the leaves on the trees seemed to cease moving as he spun his head toward the barn.

“No, NO! He screamed charging after her at a record speed. But it didn’t feel that way to him, with every stride another memory or vision of her popped into his mind. When they were young souls running through fields of flowers, her rescuing him from the insane asylum, the face she made when he followed her into battle with Ro’kenhrontey’s, their first baseball game, dancing in the living room, their first earthly kiss, their last kiss, each memory coming in rapid succession until the only thing he saw was her. He barreled into the empty barn calling for her, even though he knew she wasn’t going to answer, even though he knew that she was gone. His tears crashed to the dirt just as his knees did.  


	20. Heavenly Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This Chapter just didn't want to come out for some reason, I hope you all enjoy it! I'm starting to proofread/edit the next chapter tonight, I hope I finish, nevertheless it will be up as soon as I do. I feel like I meant to go back and change something in this chapter but I got distracted and for the life of me couldn't remember what it was when I came back to it, I hope it makes sense. Thanks again! :-)!

 

 

Days passed before Ichabod said a word, he thought them, continually, he just couldn’t muster the strength to relay them to other people. It wasn’t like before when the Horseman had taken her, then there was plan, a mission to aid her, something that could be done. Now there was only hope, and he was far too gone along the darker side of things to feel any. He never left Gideon’s, opting instead to spend day and night in the very barn she’d left from. He couldn’t go home. Everything about home reminded him of her, reminded him that she wasn’t there. His cursed memory left the ordinary scene forever imprinted across his brain. They’d left in a hurry, and their home still emitted all of the signs of the happy life they’d planned to lead. Her white sweater draped haphazardly across the arm of the couch after she’d chosen instead to wear her navy one, the lotion she’d left upon the dresser, to rushed to be bothered returning it to the bathroom, half rinsed tea mugs in the sink, and a platter of chicken breast she’d placed in the refrigerator to thaw for dinner. The cable bill which sat in front of the letter tray he’d crafted out of reclaimed wood, purposefully held apart from the rest the mail as a reminder that she needed to contact them regarding an inconsistency found in their billing statement. In the small room next to the garage, there was a painting she’d begun working on, but hadn’t gotten around to finishing, she’d covered it and made him swear not to peek, and he hadn’t, even though his curiosity ate away at him. It wasn’t the same when she wasn’t there. Even when she left for work the house seemed different—quiet…sleeping, he swore even the flowers awoke when she came home. Within moments of arriving she would take off her boots, hang her jacket, kiss him hello, open a window, turn on some music—a vinyl record on the days she was truly happy, start a meal, which always seemed to bring Jenny around, and then the inevitable laughter would commence. She moved. Constantly. Taking care of everything and everyone around her like it’s what she’d been born to do, he was in awe just to watch her, and when she finally tired, when she was weary from the length and stress of the day and became quiet, he alone was allowed to sit with her inside of it. He was happy there, in the quiet with her. But that place that was once suffused with vibrance embezzled directly from her bones was now barren, nothing more than a monument to a most promising life, he now feared would go unlived. He wasn’t ready to go back there, it was possible that he never would again.

Four days after she’d left the most he’d managed in the way of nourishment was a canteen of chicken broth that Jenny had first offered to him as water. She brought it three times a day, every day, he took it in the morning and again at lunch, but he always refused at night. She’d found some chicken soup flavored protein powder at the local health food store, and slipped a couple of tablespoons into every serving. The tasteless fiber she poured into his water went unnoticed as well. He did try once to eat a bit of cracker she’d brought to accompany his broth but it soured in his mouth, and he had no choice but to spit it out. She’d sit with him sometimes and talk to him, even though he wouldn’t respond, she actually began to find it kind of freeing talking to someone who she knew wouldn’t say anything back. She slid her back down the side of the barn and rested her head against the back of the wall. For a while they sat there in silence, the only noise coming from the crinkling of the bag of potato chips she munched on while he drank his broth.

“You want some?” She said tilting the chips toward him. “Suit yourself.” She spoke when he made no indication that he’d even heard her.

“Oh yeah, I had to go to the store today, and I didn’t feel like stopping for gas so I took your car. I wouldn’t call it my best parking job, but it was legal-ish, anyway some asshole side swiped me, and you have some pretty decent body damage. I’d offer pay for it but, you wouldn’t accept, and I was going to the store for you anyway sooo…I guess we’re even.” She glanced over at him looking off as if he were oblivious and unfazed to anything she’d just said. She talked to him about Abbie, about how she would want them to stay strong, and stick together even through the darkest of times. She knew he heard her, even if he wouldn’t acknowledge it. Still it was getting to be too much battling through this own her own, Frank had been great, doing everything he could to be supportive and make her feel better, but even with as close as he and Abbie were, he hadn’t lost what she and Ichabod had. She needed to connect with him, to know that he wasn’t completely gone from the world, and further that she wasn’t completely alone in it. She needed it, more than anything else at the moment, but the faraway look in his eyes told her that she wasn’t going to get it.

“Well.” She said pushing herself up off the ground. “I promised Delton that I’d stop by the orphanage and hang out with him today.” Ichabod’s head lifted in a momentary break from his thoughts. “Whoa—he lives.” Jenny noted. “I answered your phone yesterday.” She explained. “People were pretty worried when neither you nor Abbie had been by, and then you missed his fencing lesson, and everyone was sure something terrible had happened.” Ichabod’s eyes fell to the ground, and she could see that he was hurting, but so was she. “He needs you, you know. He…” Jenny cleared her throat fighting off the tears that were building behind her eyes. She waited for her voice to steady before continuing. “He misses her, he misses you.” She said, watching as his eyes stayed focused on the ground. “So do I.” She shook her head when he failed to react to her words. “Ok well, I’ll see you later.” She sighed, walking off.

Ichabod’s fingers flared and contracted against the ground as she made her way from the barn.

He’d been lost in his mind probing through every moment that had occurred since he came to know Abbie. Where did he go wrong, what could he have done differently to prevent this moment from happening? What could he have done to save her? He couldn’t get up from here. He couldn’t simply leave the barn, and go back into a world that he wanted no parts of without her in it. What if she came back and he wasn’t there to greet her? He couldn’t leave. It had been hours since Jenny had left so when he heard footsteps approaching he naturally believed it to be her. It was nearing supper time, and she would try again to get him to take the broth. He wondered how her visit with Delton had gone. Was he well? Did he have everything that he needed? To his surprise Katrina came into view, her hands clutching a bowl with contents that smelled verily familiar to a stew she used to prepare for him. For a while he tried to ignore her pleadings, fighting failingly to keep his thoughts trained upon sifting through his memory, methodically searching for a way out of this predicament. When he could bear no more of her incessant babbling causing him to lose focus he finally broke his silence.

“You should go.” He said, meeting her eyes for the first time in days.

“Ichabod, my love.” She quietly gasped, stunned that he’d spoken. She moved forward ignoring the actual words he’d said, his pleas for her to leave, she was just happy to hear his voice.

“It has been nearly five days since you have taken a meal, I know Miss Jenny means well with her broth but surely it is not enough to sustain you.” She said gently, trying to urge him towards the bowl of soup. The was a brief moment of relief that traced across her face as he took the bowl from her, she was thrilled, happy that he seemed to be coming out of it, and even more-so that his once favorite stew was the trick that did it. That relief lasted only seconds, quickly replaced by frustration as she watched the bowl sail and clank against the side of the barn wall. Bits of cabbage, corn, and beef slid down to the ground in thick globs.  

“Ichabod.” Gideon snapped. He’d been on his way to bring Ichabod his cellphone, and caught the tail end of the spectacle from just outside the barn. It was then that he took notice of the look in his eyes, and immediately softened. Ichabod’s body sat against the wall, his elbows rested upon his knees, it was his hair, his face, his hands, but he wasn’t present, at least not the Ichabod they knew. His eyes told the story, this darker version of him, one that Gideon had only seen once in all the time he’d known him. He could almost feel the anger and sadness seeping through his pores. He took Katrina to the side and told her that she’d done all that she could do. Bringing him blankets in the dead of night, preparing him meal after meal all of which he refused.

“Perhaps it is best that you head home, and find rest, he is not himself. I will have my grandson give you a lift.” He added before she could protest.

Ichabod looked on as Katrina exited the barn. Gideon gazed down at him, but he turned his head, to angry to even look at him.

“Ichabod, you must fight through this. Find your faith boy.” He implored.

“Faith?” He cackled. “And where has this so-called faith gotten me in all of these years?” His teeth gritted together as he spoke.

“Do you really need the answer to that? You have survived against every opposition, and this too you will survive.”

Ichabod waved his hand dismissively, he had neither the time nor energy to explain the feelings that left him conflicted. “Gideon please, you cannot begin to _fathom_ what I am feeling.” He sat up sneering. “How could you? How could you allow her to leave without so much as offering a warning?”

“—Oh Ichabod open your eyes, for once in your life just open your damned eyes, she is far better equipped to survive this journey than you could ever _hope_ to be.”

“ _She_ is out there, most probably lost and alone, and with diminutive chances of _ever_ returning!” He yelled.

“AT LEAST SHE HAS A CHANCE!” Gideon yelled, surprising them both. “You were dead set upon embarking on a suicide mission, you would have never returned, NEVER! She was your only option.”

Ichabod stood to his feet to meet the eyes of the old man standing over him. “Whatever fate I would have met upon this journey, it would have been _my_ choice, _my_ decision, and it would have been vastly superior to this. Being here without her…” His eye’s fell to the ground, his voice softened as it struggled to stretch around the lump in his throat. “Not knowing if…if I shall ever be granted the chance to look upon her face again, or if she is afraid, or alive…” All at once his voice found its strength again. “I’d rather be dead.” He exclaimed with definitive resolve.

“You think you’re the only one, is that what you think…don’t you think if I could trade places with Turine I would in a heartbeat, we don’t get to choose, we don’t get to decide that. It’s always harder being the one who’s left. You were brave in wanting to go, in risking your life, but if you think for even a second that tasking her with being here without you would have somehow been easier…why then you are more a fool than either of us ever believed. What you’re feeling right now… _this_ is harder, you think I’ve never felt that way…you think I’ve never felt that feeling in my lungs,” He said pointing at his chest, “That feeling like the air doesn’t belong there, like you’d rather it wasn’t. That deep unsettling pain that you can’t readily understand until you realize that it hurts to breathe, that it would be easier to stop, but you can’t…we don’t get to choose.”

Rows of tears dropped from Ichabod’s eyes. He quickly wiped them dry, even as aggrieved as he was not wanting to cry in front of the man who he looked upon as a father. But it felt like he was reading his mind, every breath he took since she left had been pained. Gideon took him by the shoulder and ushered him over to the wooden chairs off to the side of the barn. They sat together silently for a long while before he spoke.

“You’re worried about her, I understand, but had you gone and she stayed you wouldn’t have spared her as much as you think you would have. She would be feeling the same way you feel right now, only she would be certain that you were not coming back. At least you have hope, at least you _can_ have faith.

“How do you do it?” He asked, numbly.

“A little at a time.” Gideon replied. “You take one breath, and then another. You do it again, and eventually it becomes a habit. It doesn’t go away, the pain...but sometimes we find things that help us to see our way through it. Things that make waking up every day hurt a little less.” He reached over and held Ichabod by the shoulder, as he handed him his phone. Ichabod looked down saw all of the missed calls from the orphanage.

He ran a hand across his eyes, drying the last of his tears before pressing the button to return the call.

“Hello…yes Sister Sarah, how are you? I am hoping to speak with Delton.” Ichabod looked up at Gideon just as he was standing in the doorway of the barn. He didn’t have to say thank you, he knew. Just as Ichabod understood that he and Abbie, along with Seamus and the rest of his family were the only things that kept him going after he lost Turine. Children had a way of doing that, helping you to find strengths you never dreamed you had, because at this point Delton was the only thing that had a prayer of pulling him from where he was.   He needed him.

A half an hour later Ichabod had just finished up his call with Delton when Jenny made her way into the barn. He watched as she shuffled a pair of work gloves out of the way and set the canteen down on the small wooden table. Her fingers dug through the plastic sack in her hand as she spoke without so much as a glance in his direction, if she hadn’t been so displaced with worry she might have noticed that he was sitting in the chair instead of in his usual position slumped against the wall.

“Ichy I know you miss her, I miss her too…but you have to eat something, you can’t just shut down this way.” It was only then that she took the time to find his eyes.

“I’ve decided that either, A, you’re going to eat something,” She stated waving a container of yogurt in front of him. “Or B, I’m going to kick your narrow ass, and then, you _are_ going to eat something. So which way do you want to do this because…because I may have already lost a sister, and I’ll be damned if I lose a brother too.” She softly cried.

Ichabod glanced up and saw the tears falling from her grief stricken eyes. “Very well.” He stated standing and taking the yogurt from her hand. Jenny couldn’t believe her ears, she was prepared to pin him to the ground and force feed him.

“Okay.” She said tentatively, though her eyes still shone with disbelief. She didn’t realize she’d actually heard him correctly until he asked her for a spoon.

“Jenny” he said placing a hand to her arm. “We’ve not lost her, she is coming home...we have to keep our faith in that. Thank you for…” The tears in his eyes said the rest, for holding it all together, for looking after him, for looking after Delton. She was so much like her sister it was scary sometimes. Before he could find the voice to say more she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him in a tight hug.

“Don’t mention it.” She sniffled. A few minutes passed before Jenny finally leaned back. “Ichy,” she grinned. “You need a shower.”

A few minutes later Ichabod and Jenny made the trek to the main house where Gideon and Frank were just sitting down to the sandwiches that she’d brought for them. Even though Gideon had hoped talking to Delton would do him some good he was surprised to see him joining the others.

“I’ll set another place.” Gideon proclaimed, standing to grab another place setting. Ichabod clasped his hands together in front of him, dropping his eyes.

“I am afraid I owe all of you a great apology.” The group tried to assure him that he did not but he continued anyway.

“My behavior has been, reprehensible…Gideon, the things I said earlier…I did not mean them, and Katrina,” He added looking around.

“She’s at the house.” Jenny divulged, noticing that he was looking for her.

“Yes, well I acted terribly toward her as well, I cannot say that I fault her. I owe many thanks to all of you for your support these past days, and from henceforth, I promise that I shall attempt to be more deserving of it.”

“Ichabod, you do not owe us anything, but Abbie…I know that it’s hard to hear right now but every single moment of your life is a gift, even the ones that feel more like a curse, you must make the most of it for Abbie. Until she returns you are living for the both of you.” Gideon reasoned.

“Yes sir.” He agreed. Jenny handed him a knapsack that had a fresh change of clothing, just before he excused himself to bathe.

That night the four of them drank bottles of wine—well they all drank bottles, Jenny only allowed Ichabod a smidgen seeing as he hadn’t eaten much in the previous days, they toasted to Abbie, and prayed for her safe return. They sat up all night telling stories about her, some of the funny, a few of them sad, all of them sentimentally unique in highlighting that special something that made her who she was, that made her theirs.

                                                                       

* * *

 

 

Abbie couldn’t remember how long she’d been walking, minutes and hours bent and folded in on one another. She did her best to move through the realm as methodically as possible, but couldn’t help but get sidetracked a time or two. There was so much noise and confusion, everyone talking at varying speeds and octaves, she could hardly hear herself think. She kept her mind trained on Jeremy, on finding him, and the two of them finding their way home. She couldn’t risk thinking about anything else. The few times she did she almost lost herself, and nearly forgot why she had come or what she was doing there.

_Jeremy_. _I have to find Jeremy,_ she thought fighting to shut out the noise. But after searching for so long, her body and mind were finally wearing down and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep up the search. There was a bench just 10 yards in front of her, her legs were weak with fatigue, and she began having thoughts that could only lead to trouble. _What if I just took a little rest, just a little break before finishing my search_? Ignoring the fact that there was no rest here, if she sat on the bench and took her mind off of the task at hand she would forget that quickly what it was. But her mind was no longer functioning properly, and only sought rest. Just one. Brief. Moment. The back of her thighs sunk against the stone bench.

_Oh this feels so good_. She closed her eyes, for only a second, and immediately jolted up.

_Oh no_. She thought. _It’s happening, I can’t make it any further_.” Panic gripped every part of her soul as she realized how close she’d just come to losing it all. “C’mon Abbie, please, you can do this just stay focused.” She said to herself. “You have to find Jeremy. She reminded herself taking another step. _Now which way was I going_? She looked all around unable to determine which direction she’d been moving in, white clouds of fog obscured and covered brick buildings which all appeared the same. Her head whipped from one direction to the other, her past movements were as lost as her future ones, but that’s when she just barely spied something familiar glowing off in the distance. Her brows drew in as she tried to determine what she was looking at.

_I know that..what is_.. _THE CREST!_ Grace’s crest. She thought as she stood in front of the bench and looked straight ahead. Precariously positioned as if it was known that she would be drawn to that very bench. Directly in front of it there was a small building with her ancestors crest plastered to the top of it. Her legs started heading in that direction before she ever realized that she was moving. She pushed against the thick block door but it didn’t budge…she pushed again leaning with all of her weight, and it just squeaked open. It was dark inside, she was thankful for that, at least she didn’t have to see all of the creepy crawly things she could here scurrying about. A bright light protruded from underneath a door on the far side of the room.

Please God, she prayed as she moved toward it. She pushed through the door and was nearly overcome with emotion. In the center of the room there was a bed, and upon that bed a boy, one that looked more and more like her husband the closer she got. By the time she reached his bedside it was already clear, even before he opened his eyes, and she saw her husband’s staring back at her.

“Jeremy.” She breathed.

He looked up at her. “Mama?”  

                                                                       

* * *

 

 

Katrina climbed out of the bathtub, and draped herself in a large fluffy towel. After drying she fastened the towel around her wet hair and slipped into the large bathrobe that couldn’t have been anyone other than Ichabod’s. She stood examining herself in front of the bathroom mirror, twisting and turning her head so she could survey herself from different angles. She filtered through the bottles on the vanity until she came to the one marked face cream. While rubbing a dime sized amount into her face, she walked through the bedroom admiring the fashionings and trinkets of the woman who held everything she wanted. Ichabod wouldn’t want her in here, using Abigail’s things but if he were honest with himself he would realize that his precious Abbie wasn’t ever coming back. She knew that he loved her, that he wouldn’t simply open himself to the possibility of their romance re-igniting the moment she left. But she did think that he would have at least spoken to her by now. The past few days, no one was able to even acquire his gaze, and then today he finally looked at her, but with eyes she didn’t recognize. He hadn’t wanted her there, and it hurt her more than she could believe being on the outside of things with him. She knew for a fact that he would sit and listen to Jenny blather on for hours, but he could not stand to allow her to be in his presence more than a few moments. What had she ever done to deserve his ire. She was humiliated and furious all at the same time. How could he behave so distantly toward her after all that she had done for him, after everything she risked. She thought back to the very day that changed her life forever.

It was a sweltering day in August when she set out on a journey to try to erase the events that had transpired the night before. She’d told everyone that she would be taking a walk through the woods in search of herbs. When she was sure that no one was following her, she made her way to the spot where she and Mary had rendezvoused the night before. Her knees bent to the sand in front of the water searching for any signs of the struggle that had taken place, for any signs of a body. As her eyes set about the edge of the lake she saw an undefined reflection appear in it, startled she leapt up but found no one when she turned about to track the stranger, and then all of a sudden he appeared beside her. As hideous a thing as she had beheld, she wanted to scream, but he waved a hand in front of her that somehow tied her tongue and kept her from yelling out.

“Fear not witch.” The demon spoke. “I have come to lay an offer before you. You desire him, I can help you achieve your desires.” He said waving his hand across the water. A moving portrait of Ichabod graced it’s surface, a running film of all of the brief encounters they’d shared. From the images she was certain that the monster already knew the depth of her feelings for him, but she tried to deny it anyway.

“I do not know what you speak of, he is the dearest friend of the man I am to marry.” She stated. “Further, if by some chance I did desire him, I am certain that I would not need any help gaining his attention.” Her retort was met with a loud growl from the demon.

“And what when he discovers what you have done. After everyone learns the truth of what you have done.” He countered.

Katrina heard a familiar scene playing and turned to find a struggle she had with Mary etched across the water. She knew who Ichabod was, knew that there were forces on each side of the war striving for his defection. It didn’t stop her from falling in love with him, any more-so than the fact that he was as a brother to Abraham. She’d done well, easily managing to keep her admiration of him hidden from everyone, everyone except for Mary. There was a subtle but undeniable recognition between the two of them. A knowledge as old as time inherent in women who were unlucky enough to fall in love with the same man. From their first encounter she knew Mary could tell that she wanted him, and she did, but Mary had gone too far in wrongfully accusing her of casting some sort of spell upon him, which she had not. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of it, she had, even though she’d been warned against using her powers in that way, long told that such use always begat destruction. Besides, she didn’t need to use magic, it was clear to her that Ichabod fancied her as well. She hadn’t wanted to kill Mary but it would be a lie to say that she hadn’t wanted her to die. After all she couldn’t have her going about making accusations that she was a witch, just a small amount of digging and her truth would have been revealed. Still it wasn’t planned, at least not at first. When Mary lunged toward her just hours before, it was her natural reaction to step out of the way, her fall from the cliff was purely accidental. By the time Katrina made it to the water’s edge where her body had fallen, Mary’s breaths were shallow and labored. If she were honest, being a skilled nurse, and a powerful witch she likely could have stabilized her, but fear of what this woman might tell Ichabod if she lived paralyzed Katrina and barred her from action. She could have left her there, she reasoned looking back on it, she all but certainly would have perished before anyone would have discovered her, but she took pity on her, she reasoned. She understood her in a way that only another woman who loved Ichabod could. Poor Mary couldn’t have given up on the idea of a future with him even if she tried, and Katrina hadn’t figured out the particulars yet, but Ichabod was to be hers. After a moment of deliberation and listening to Mary’s struggled pleas for help she did what she’d convinced herself was the merciful thing to do…the _right_ thing to do. She pulled her out into the water, and held her head under the surface until she drowned. It wasn’t until after Mary was dead that she realized Ichabod could never know she’d died. She came to New York only in search of him, he would see any hardship that befell her as his personal responsibility. Without question he would have returned to England to deliver the news to her parents, and by the time he returned, if he returned at all, the war could have shifted, and she would be wed to Abraham. It seemed all for naught now, but she couldn’t have known that then.

“What is it that you want?” She asked bitterly, turning away from the demon’s display.

“It is not _about_ what I want.” Moloch snarled. He promised her that she could have Ichabod, that she didn’t have to be stuck in a life and marriage with Abraham but could have a life with the man she truly loved. He encouraged her to let herself succumb to the feelings she was having, looking back on it now she realized she was just a pawn used to drive a wedge between the two men. Moloch even offered her some friendly advice, and ominous warning so to speak. They would be happy and carry out all of their days together, blessed with hordes of children, but there was one small thing…Ichabod had to be persuaded to abandon the war, Moloch warned her that he would not live to see its end. How could she now persuade him to abandon the cause she had urged him to fight for to begin with? The revolution was everything they believed in, men and women alike seeking freedom from the overreaching despotism of the aristocracy. How could she give it up so easily, but then she thought back to the night he collapsed on her doorstep, wounded and clutching his belly, and she knew. She would forsake all of the world to save this one man. Would his precious Abbie do the same, she doubted it, it was always duty first with her, how could a person like that truly know what love is, and still…he loved her more.

Even after she’d agreed to Moloch’s condition, changing Ichabod’s mind would prove beyond challenging. He was as determined as any person she’d ever known, once he committed to something he committed to it wholly. The entire reason Mary was upset with her was because even she had failed to convince Ichabod to return to England. After a while she decided the one thing that could change his mind about everything was a child. If she were carrying his child and told him she’d decided to leave the colonies, he would have to come with her. It was her plan to become pregnant and tell him that she wanted to experience the life and status he enjoyed in England. But that was easier said than done considering her husband had stated that they should not try for children until the war was more firmly in hand. His seed rarely filled her. Nearly every time they made love he withdrew from her, spilling himself anywhere along her body save the place where she wanted it most. But one night when he was filled with rum following a hard fought battle with his men, she slipped a few drops of Laudanum into the remainder of his drink.  He soon fell to sleep only to wake to his wife climbing over top of him. The opium in his blood disoriented him, pushing him to a state of abandon and suppressing the voice in the back of his head that had always told him it was time pull out. She wrapped her arms around him and held to him until she felt his release swirling inside of her. Her plan was but a few months from taking root when Moloch informed her that time was up.

“You were to persuade Ichabod to leave the war, and yet he still fights.” He roared. She tried to assure him that she was trying, stating her task was harder than she imagined it to be, but he wouldn’t hear it. At that time he informed her that the next battle Ichabod fought would be his last. Being far too in love with him to even comprehend such a fate she promised that she would do anything if he could be spared, if _they_ could be spared. Moloch agreed, telling her that her request had been granted, Ichabod would live, and in exchange she would present him with their firstborn child. Horrified, she told him no, that the price was too great but when Moloch stated “Fine then Ichabod dies,” she recanted.

“I give you this gift.” He sneered. “Ichabod shall live.” Little did she know the way it all would happen. He would live, but hundreds of years apart from the time in which she did, in love with another woman. As Ichabod slept in the cave she went into hiding. There was no way in hell she was going to hand her baby over to Moloch, especially after feeling it move inside of her. But when the evil descended upon Fredrick’s manor, she knew it would break through, her promise had given the evil a right, a claim to the child, and it came to collect. As soon as the strongholds broke, Grace knew, Katrina could see it in her eyes, but she helped her anyway.  

Katrina tried to shake the memories off as she pulled the blankets back and crawled into Ichabod and Abbie’s bed. She reached over pulling his plush pillow to her nose. His smell was infused in the smooth fabric. She looked up at the ceiling wondering what it would be like to sleep in this room every night. To lie next to him the way she had so many times before. The moment Abbie left she began to breathe easier, she couldn’t lose in this situation. More than likely Abbie would never return, and eventually, maybe not soon, but eventually Ichabod would need the comfort of a woman, of a friend, and when that time came she would be there. If by chance Abbie did come back with Jeremy in tow, the benefits would be endless. She would be given a second chance to reunite with the child she’d given up so long ago, her one true regret. Ichabod would be reminded of the life that they shared together, having in Jeremy a living, breathing, testament of their love and the life they created together.   She couldn’t lose, Ichabod would be hers, and not even the heroic Miss Mills would be able to stop it.

 

                                                                       

* * *

 

 

Abbie’s mouth fell open as the boy slowly sat up in the bed. She wondered briefly if she’d misheard him, but quickly realized she hadn’t. It wasn’t like he looked around the room and called for his mama, he looked directly into her eyes and said it as if that’s who he recognized her to be.

“Mama?” He rubbed his fists over his eyes attempting to straighten out his vision. “Is that you?” He asked just as he gathered that the woman wasn’t his mama, even though she looked a great deal like her.

“Umm, No.” Abbie replied hoarsely. She kneeled to look him in the eyes, recognizing all at once that he must have thought she was Grace. “My name is Abbie Mills—uh Crane.” She corrected out of habit. “I am a relative of your mama’s—Grace. Is that your mama’s name?”

“Yes ma’am.” He answered quietly.

“I am actually named after her, my name is Grace too, Grace Abigail Mills, and your father,” _Who it stands to reason you might not know is your father,_ she thought, “is a very dear friend of mine.”

Jeremy reached down into his pocket and pulled a locket from it. He opened it to reveal the clock in the bottom portion, turning it slightly so that Abbie could see the portrait in the top section. It was beautifully painted appearing to be fashioned from watercolor on ivory, her eyes lit up when she saw that the picture was of Ichabod.

“My mama gave me this pocket watch. She said the reason that I look different is because I was born to different parents. She told me that they loved me very much but they were unable to keep me, so she and my papa took care of me. But it did not matter she said.” He added a bit defensively, “Mama said small things like that never mattered, and I am as much their son as Isaac.”

“Isaac?” Abbie questioned.

“My brother.” He is the one who brought me to this place, him and my Aunt Lucille. I did not mean to hurt the man, I swear.” Abbie listened to him plead his case as if she were there to punish him. “He struck me, he was hurting me, he always struck me, and then suddenly my doll…it grew to life and….and.” Tears filled his eyes as Abbie’s arm touched his shoulder.

“It’s okay, it’s alright, I know.” She said.

“I ran, and Isaac came home from the Navy when he heard I had fled, he found me. He said that it was no longer safe for me here, that I had to go to sleep for a long while and that when I woke either this man, my father, or a woman who was God’s own witness would be with me. Is that you?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, that’s me.” She answered wisp toned.

“He said that you and my father would fight to avenge our mama and papa, he promised you would come for me, though he said…” After that the boy broke down in tears, they spilled from his eyes much faster than he could wipe them away.

Abbie fought off her own tears as she listened to him struggle through the remainder of his sentence. “Forgive me ma’am.”

“It’s okay, honey you’ve been through so much more than a boy your age should ever have to. Call me Abbie.”

“Yes, ma’am, oh Miss…Miss Abbie.”

Abbie lips parted into a small sorrowful smile, he was his father’s son.

“I can continue on now. When I asked Isaac if I would see him again, he said I would but not in this world. He told me that when I woke from my sleep that a great amount of time will have likely passed. That he will have passed on.” He cried. “I am awake, and you speak in a strange tongue, your garments are the likes of which I have never seen, I can only imagine that all that he said has come true.”

Abbie took a seat on the bed next to the boy. “I’m sorry…you are correct, the year is 2015, and your brother Isaac is my great-great-great grandfather and he did pass a long while ago.” Abbie squeezed his hand as a soft gasp fell from his mouth. “But everything he told you has come to pass, the monster that hurt your parents has been destroyed, and no one, and I mean no one is ever going to hurt you again.”

“He said that you would be nice, that you or my father would look after me.”

“He was right, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” She promised, wrapping her arms around him. It was peaceful in the building, the creepy feeling that bothered her the entire time she’d been in the realm had no effect on her there. It was nice for her brain to be able to rest a bit. After a while she took Jeremy by the hands and explained to him that she was going to transport them from the realm. Only it didn’t work. She tried two more times and nothing. She looked around trying to figure out what the problem was and quickly realized that there was a protection spell over the building. Magic, even her power to leap realms, didn’t work here. Grace had somehow formulated a spell powerful enough to ward off all comers.

“Okay, we’ll just have to get a little ways away from the building.” She said standing up. “We should hurry before the darkness comes.” She decided. After walking through the realm for God knows how long she had come to dread the darkness, it was never light here but there were hours when it became pitch black, and she couldn’t make out anything more than three feet in front of her. During those times she could hear them sneering, and surrounding her, she somehow knew that the necklace Turine had given her was the only thing keeping them at bay. She went to the door and peeked out only to find that the darkness had already fallen upon them. _Not a chance._ She thought. They were much better off holding up here until it lifted. The two of them sat and talked, a little about family and the lives they came from, a little about the world they were heading to, which Abbie noticed seemed to fascinate him to no end. She taught him a few games, and they had fun playing to pass the time. Rock, paper, scissors was his favorite, he beat her eleven of sixteen times.

“Beginner’s luck.” She laughed after his last victory. Once the darkness rescinded they geared up for their journey.    

“Alright Jeremy, you and I are going home, but when we leave this building there’s going to be some not so nice beings trying to keep us here.” She tilted her head toward him, “We’re not staying. Don’t look at them, don’t speak to them, they aren’t real. The only thing that matters out there is you and me okay.”

“Yes ma’am I mean Miss Abbie.” He quickly corrected.

A smile spread across her face. “I know that you’re excited about some of the changes I told you about, but when we arrive back in Sleepy Hollow, it will look very, _very_ , different from the town that you remember. You don’t have to worry, or be afraid though, you’re safe with me. Are you ready?”

The small nod acted as assurance that he was prepared for their voyage. Abbie held her hand out to him, and they were on their way.

“Let’s get out of here.” She stated as the boy grabbed hold of her hand and pulled himself up from the bed.

“Remember, no matter what happens stay close.” She advised. The pair made their way from the circular room, and eventually landed in the hall. Abbie sucked in a deep breath and murmured a small prayer as she pushed through the door. Her eyes quickly scanned the area until she found the bench and started back in that direction. They could see others before them, creatures cloaked in dark robes in the distance, it wasn’t until they were halfway to the bench that Abbie realized many of them had fallen in behind them as well. Their heads were bowed beneath thick hoods, if they had eyes at all she wouldn’t have known it. She glanced down as Jeremy took her hand, and instantly noticed the fingers of his other hand separating and flexing.

“Miss Abbie.” He whimpered holding onto her hand with all of his might. With every step she and Jeremy took the closer the others came.  

“We’re okay.” She said, not knowing whether they were or not, but certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wasn’t leaving here without him. Her free hand stroked the necklace around her neck, they couldn’t run, every step in this place had to be measured, and even then one could become confounded. To run was suicide. She looked up and could just barely see the familiar beginnings of the outer end, but they would never make it that far. She could still feel the protections covering the building lessening her power, but she may have had just enough to take them from this place. _Well this is a lil bit of a conundrum_ , she told herself. _I can’t go back and wait it out, no one is going to save us from here. They want me away from the building so they can attack._ She could feel their hatred in the air around them, their misery, they wanted all to suffer with them. Her mind worried over the multitude of possibilities. If she was too close to the building to jump she might end up zapping all of her energy and not be able to once she reached an appropriate distance. If they went too far forward the protection of the building would not cover them, and the others would likely attack. She didn’t know how much protection the necklace would afford her but there appeared to be hundreds of them. The moment had to be right, her spacing had to be precise and even then it might not be enough. She closed her eyes so that she could focus all of her energy on what she felt. She took a step. It wasn’t enough, the pull was still too great they needed go further.

“Miss Abbie.” Jeremy breathed in a shaky tone.

“It’s okay.” She stated never opening her eyes. _Not enough Abbie, c’mon a little further._ She swallowed and took another tentative step forward.

“Miss Abbie.” Jeremy warned, louder this time, wrapping his arms around her.

“Just a few more steps.” She told him, feeling his feet step onto her shoes as he tried to get as close as possible. He screams ran out and a fire sprang up encircling them, driving the monsters back. They had to jump, and they had to jump now, the only other way out would have been for them to literally walk through the fire.

“Sorry Miss, sorry I didn’t mean to.” He cried.

‘It’s okay,” Abbie said dropping to the ground and taking his hand in hers. “This’ll have to do.”  

Abbie covered their locked hands with her other one, and centered with all of her energy on jumping them home.

A familiar feeling came over her as the wind whirled around them. She could feel the boy trembling in her arms as she opened her eyes.

“Jeremy we…” Abbie looked around and noticed that all of the people around them were dressed in clothing more similar to Jeremy than hers. Her heart stopped as a few horse drawn carriages passed by them, she grew anxious when she noticed that all of the passengers wore clothing that looked to be from the colonial period, simple Brunswick gowns complete with caps.

“Shit,” She mumbled under her breath trying not to alarm Jeremy. _Where are we, where have I taken us_? She wondered. Two men dressed in military uniforms rode by them on horseback, each of them armed with swords while four more men marched behind them in paired lines carrying muskets. A few of the men nodded her direction, which she met with a tense nod of her own. Just as panic begin to rip through her she settled her fears forcing herself to take a good look at the world around her. There was some things that seemed outdated, but others that were most certainly not, like the asphalt road to their right. Not some old un-kept cracked asphalt, but a modern paved road.  Her legs seemed to turn about on the own volition as she and Jeremy turned to look behind them. Their heads leaned back in unison as their eyes took in the magnificently huge white building before them. The landscaping itself was breathtaking, it was surrounded by acres of green grass, gaping trees, and masses flowers in every color imaginable. It seemed far too vast to be mounted on top of the hill they’d only just realized they were standing at the bottom of.

“Wow.” Abbie murmured appreciating the view. Her eyes sifted over the incredibly long porch and the American flags that swung from it. They were both alarmed by a young voice behind them.

“Wow neat outfit.” The boy chimed.

Jeremy regarded the boy for a moment looking as though he wanted to reply but wasn’t quite certain he was addressing him. He looked down at his attire, Isaac had purchased it and brought it along with him when he found him in the woods. He wore tan breeches pulled over the tops of his white stockings, and a pair of dark brown leather shoes. His torso was covered by a white wide-necked, button cuffed shirt and a light blue waistcoat. Isaac said it was important for him to look his best before he went to sleep. He didn’t tell him why but Jeremy knew without such confirmation that it was in the event that he never woke up. Abbie grinned nervously and gave him a little pat on the back.  

“Yes, thank you.” He finally spoke. The boy tilted his head off to the side.

“So which side are you fighting for? He asked energetically. “My dad is fighting for the British, I’m going to be a fifer, but I forgot my boots in the room.” He stated pointing down at his shoes. Abbie felt her every muscle in her body relax, and her once cautious grin blossomed into an irrepressible smile. She had never been so happy to see a pair of Nike’s in all her life. A long slow breath eased from her mouth as she felt the tightness in her chest slowly dissipate. She was shaken to her core at the thought of being trapped in a time where Black Americans were denied the freedoms they have now. Freedom was the only thing she’d ever known, her mode of thinking, her aspirations, actions, and voice had always been free, and knowing everything her ancestors struggled through to gain that freedom she couldn’t imagine relinquishing it, not even on her life. Listening to the boy it seemed that all of the men donning military personnel were participating in some kind of reenactment.  

Still something was off. She toggled between trying to decide what it was and keeping an ear to the conversation in case she needed to act as a buffer. The street to her left was mostly empty forgiving a few military men about horses. She turned and quickly examined the street to her right while the boy dawdled on.

_Cars!_ She suddenly discovered, eyes darting in all directions. Not one car in sight.

“Are you going to play an instrument?” He asked, seeming not to notice that Jeremy had yet to answer his previous question.

“Robbie.” A voice called from a few yards away. “We need to keep a steady pace if we want to make it on—oh wow what an authentic looking outfit.” Abbie looked to find a broad man in one of the military uniforms she’d seen earlier. His light brown locks were falling slightly from his hat.

“Thank you.” Abbe relayed right on cue, even though her mind was being pulled into a thousand directions.

“I’ve been look all over for something like that for my son, where did you find it?”

“I actually had it made.” She stated. “My sister made it.” Abbie quickly added before the man had a chance to ask who’d sewn it. “She’s quite the seamstress.”

“She certainly is. Does she have a company webpage, or does she offer products via any social media sites?” The man asked still looking over Jeremy’s outfit.

“I’m afraid not, she doesn’t particularly enjoy it, she just did it as a favor.” Abbie answered through a convincing smile. Jeremy and Robbie eased off a few feet talking amongst themselves. Abbie made it a point to listen in on their conversation while searching for a way out of the one she found herself engaged in.

“Wanna see something sweet?” She overheard the boy asking Jeremy. _This isn’t going to end well._ She thought while attempting to listen to the man in front of her. She imagined Jeremy was waiting for the boy to show him a sweetened bread, or jelly, or some type of fruit _._ “Certainly.” She overheard him reply. “I quite enjoy them.”

“Huh?” The boy asked.

“Aww too bad,” The man replied just as Abbie was returning her attention to him. “I mean even his shoe’s look so genuine.” He noted looking off at the dark brown leather shoes covering Jeremy’s feet. His eyes, like Abbie’s drifted in the direction of the boys every few seconds. “We were halfway to the reenactment site before I had to remind Robbie that there were no tennis shoe’s during the War of 1812.” He added with a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Kids.” She shrugged, paying more attention to Jeremy’s conversation then her own. The sound music and laughter caused both of them to turn toward the boys. A tight frown covered the man’s face as soon as his eyes landed upon his son.

“Flute out of your nose Robbie, how many times do I have to tell you?” He scolded. Jeremy stopped laughing instantly and returned to Abbie’s side in moments.

“Aww dad, I’m just having fun.” Robbie whined.

“Well, it was very nice meeting both of you.” Abbie said taking the momentary distraction as a way out of the conversation.

“It’s been a pleasure.” The man said walking along with them. “Are you all staying at The Pine? We’ll walk along with you, we’re headed back as well. I thought to take a carriage ride, but I figure after all the fudge I’ve eaten I could use the walk if you know what I mean, good old Mackinac Island Fudge.”

At that moment everything came together for Abbie, _Duh! That explains some of the architecture and the complete and total lack of cars._ Abbie remembered learning about the island’s long standing ban on automobiles. She knew it would be difficult jumping from the Lost Realm especially with her power half tapped from Grace’s spell, but she didn’t think she’d wind up this far off course.

“I know what you mean.” Abbie replied as they moved along. She stuck her hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out her cell phone hoping to send a text to Ichabod and Jenny. _Dammit._ She thought returning the dead phone to her pocket.

She and Jeremy walked along silently for much of the way. Both of them listening to their new found friends making idle chitchat. Abbie offered an occasional nod, and stray “really” every now and again to further along conversation. She considered finding someplace secluded so she and Jeremy could jump into purgatory undetected, and then try again to jump to Sleepy Hollow but decided against it. They had already come out of the impossible, and she couldn’t risk anything going wrong. She still wasn’t sure if the mix up was because they were jumping from such a difficult area, or if there was something wrong with her power. Besides she had been through hell and beyond to bring this little boy home, and she wasn’t about to let anything screw it up.

“So how long are you all staying for, we’ll be here through the weekend.” The man stated.

“Uh we really haven’t decided.” Abbie answered having no idea how far off the weekend was, it could have tomorrow for all she knew. The group said their goodbye’s as the parted ways in the lobby. Abbie and Jeremy gazed all around the interior taking in all of the bright colored décor. Jeremy stayed close to Abbie’s side a little overwhelmed by everything he was seeing. Most of the people inside of the hotel wore modern clothing, and all of them spoke in same unfamiliar dialect Abbie and Robbie had spoken in. The only thing that reminded him of the life he once had was Miss Abbie, there was something about her eyes that reminded him of his mama. Something about her, that made him feel at ease. They stopped at the front desk and he listened in as she spoke to the man behind standing behind it.

“Hello.”

“Good afternoon M’am.” The young man said in an orotund tone.

“Yes, do you have any rooms available for the night?” She asked clasping her hands across the desk.

“I can most certainly check for you M’am, but I believe that we, along with every other hotel on the island are booked through to next week. It’s a very busy weekend with the reenactment taking place and all.” He said consulting his computer. An older gentlemen with short gray hair mooned around his bald crown leaned in and quietly said something to the young man. His eye’s widened with surprise. “You are in luck.” He smiled.   The concierge just informed me that we had a few cancellations and we have a room available, well one room in addition to the Violet Cottage but that’s more suitable for a much larger party, I’m presuming that it’s just you and your…” “Son.” Abbie answered unblinking. If she said anything else it would seem weird, and she was much too exhausted for any additional problems. Jeremy looked over at her with the hint of a curious smile touching his light corral lips, and she couldn’t help but to see his father in him, from his twinkling blue eyes and light ashy brown hair to his thin lanky frame, he seemed to be around Delton’s height maybe an inch or so shorter. She shook her head before nodding at him, she would explain things once they got to their room. Abbie had already told him that she wasn’t his mother, and she would remind him, but he was her son. Technically her step-son, but she wouldn’t call him that, when they adopted Delton he would simply be their son and she wouldn’t have Jeremy feeling like he was somehow different, or less. She’d hoped to allow Ichabod to explain things to him, but decided in the interest of cutting down confusion it would be best to do so as soon as possible.   He had a mother, her name was Katrina, and Abbie would never try to infringe upon that.

“All set then ma’am, we have available a Category II room, and here at the Pine Hotel children under the age of eleven stay free, how old is your son?” He asked taking a momentary pause from typing.

Abbie raised an eyebrow. “He’s….”

“—Eight sir, nearly nine.” Jeremy answered.

Abbie immediately recalled that Katrina had stated that his birthday had just passed. _Did she get the dates wrong, or perhaps Jeremy was the one who was confused._

“Here at the resort all meals are included in room pricing, this chart list meal times, all of which are served in our main dining hall.” Abbie listened as the man went over all of the usual information, and informed her of the nightly rate.

“Okay.” Abbie said reaching for her wallet. _Fuck._ Her eye’s grew as she begin frantically patting around her jacket and pants pockets in search of it. “Oh God.” She lamented bringing her hand to her forehead. She had taken it out to pay a few bills just before they’d left for Gideon’s, and left it sitting on the kitchen table. Every ounce of energy drained from her face.

“Sorry I don’t have it, do you by chance have a phone that I can use, my cellphone is dead.”

“Oh, absolutely ma’am.” He answered directing her to the telephone stationed a little further down the desk. Fortunately she had Ichabod and Jenny’s phone numbers memorized. She had hoped to first speak with them in a more private setting but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. She tried Ichabod first. No answer. _Shit._

“Okay.” _Let’s try Jenny. C’mon sis pick up._ She closed her eye’s forgetting to stifle a quiet groan as Jenny’s voicemail came on. “Hey, it’s me, I’m back…I’m at the front desk of the Pine Hotel on Mackinac Island, and I am flat broke so, please get in touch with me. I’ll be here for the next little bit, oh and call this number my cel’s dead.” _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ Just as she started dialing Ichabod again the gentlemen interrupted her motioning to ask if Jeremy could have a sucker. Abbie nodded and smiled at his generosity as she cupped the phone to her ear. She watched as the young man extended his arm over the counter to offer the candy, but Jeremy quickly jumped back, eyeing the man nervously as he made his way to Abbie.

Abbie pulled her mouth away from the phone. “It’s alright, it’s food, go get it, and say thank you. Moments later Abbie glanced up to find him turning the sucker over in his hand, examining it curiously.

“Jeremy.” She waved him over, unwrapped it and held it to his mouth. “Eat this part, but not this part.” She said touching the bottom of the stick. She knew that he may have already known that, but just in case he didn’t she took the extra precaution. Jeremy’s eyes flickered with delight as he pulled the cherry flavored candy from his mouth and took another look at it.

“Mmm, this is good.” He moaned. Abbie turned her head to the side. _How in the hell is this kid so much like his father when they’ve never even met?_ She wonders, smirking as she calls Ichabod yet again.

 

Ichabod was seated in the barn where he still spent most of his time, though it wasn’t like before, he ate when asked, came up to the house to shower and changed his clothing, but for some reason he had it in his head that this would be the spot that she came back to. It was the only place he really ever wanted to be.

“We have not spoken in this way in quite some time. My mum taught me that if I hadn’t anything nice to say, it was best to say nothing at all, and so after you _took_ her…” Ichabod’s eyes began to fill with water. “Well, you know…so I have held my tongue. I know who I am, I am opinionated, and egotistical…and at times hard of heart, and truth be told I have been quite angry with you for some time regarding some of the things that have happened in my life. Senseless tragedies that have befallen good people, people that I loved, but this…I knew from the moment I first met her that I did not deserve her, any of her. Her kindness, her love, to have her smile at me in her mesmerizing way, deep and indomitable…til her eyes lit up and I could see the center of her soul, and she was good. And I knew that she was a gift because something that good could never be earned, how could one ever be worthy of such sweetness. No one has ever known me in the way that she did, and in spite of that she loved me still.”He broke down realizing that he was talking about her in past tense, he made it a point to correct it. “And I worship her….is that it? Are you jealous? They say that about you, as I’m certain you are well aware. Have I exalted her so much that you have seen fit to take her from me? Why? Why did you give her to me? Why even allow me the knowledge that someone that special exists, if this is what you intended to do?” He cried. “Why would you send me someone so perfect…so perfect for me only to TAKE HER AWAY?” He screamed so thunderous he thought his throat had split. “I thought that…that you were not inclined to burden a person with more than they can bear…I am telling you that I cannot bear _this_ , I will _not_ survive it…I will not survive _her_.” His body shook with quiet sobs as he turned his head to the ceiling. “Every ounce of anger that I feel toward you for taking Mum, that I have felt for all of these years for the way in which you so mercilessly ripped her from this earth before I had a chance to say goodbye…I will lay it to rest. I will do whatsoever you please, and be whomever you wish me to be…simply return Abbie. I have gone along. This is not to say that I have understood or agreed with your plans for my life but I have gone along. This though is asking too much, I am begging for mercy, even if it’s death.” His cried a while eye’s lifted to the ceiling, mumbling a slow repetitive prayer for some form of peace.

The ringing of his cellphone pulled him away from his prayers. He stood annoyed at the constant ringing, and marched over to where it rested. He looked at the screen long enough to determine that it wasn’t Abbie, Jenny, or Delton and tossed it back to the bench. He was barely back to his seat when it rang again. He grabbed it looking down at the number, he didn’t have the faintest idea of who it might be, but they had reached him at an egregious time and he would not mince words with them.

“This is Ichabod Crane and I know not how you have acquired this telephone number, nor do I care, but if you ring this line one more time,” Just then he realized that there was no one on the other end of the line. “Hello?” He spoke bitterly into the phone, before throwing it back to the table.

Abbie ran her fingers through her hair, Ichabod hadn’t picked up again, and she hung up just before his voicemail kicked on. She took a deep breath and keyed in the last she knew by heart. She smiled when she heard the familiar greeting on the other line.  

“Sleepy Hollow Police Department.”

“Stevens”. It’s Lieutenant Mills is the Captain in?”

“Hey Mills, how’s it going? You just missed the Captain, said he was to pick up his daughter.” Abbie closed her eyes and left them that way for ten long seconds.

“Hello, Mills, you still there?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Abbie responded rubbing her palm across her forehead, “Okay, um, can you get me his cell.”

“Sure thing.” After trying Irving Abbie hung up the phone is disbelief.

“No luck ma’am?” Stewart asked.

“Not even a drop.” I left a couple of messages, if it’s okay we’re just going to wait over here in case someone calls.

“No problem at all ma’am.”

Abbie stood at the end of the long desk waiting for someone to return her call. She let herself get lost in her thought while listening to the steady hum and chatter of conversations from the people coming and going. White gloved porters breezed through trafficking luggage here and there, they’d smile and nod at her and Jeremy. For days she had refused to let her mind wander, she couldn’t. But now that she was safe, that they were safe, her family was the only thing she could think of. With Ichabod, it was almost as if she missed him all at once, every repressed urge to think of his voice, or his scent, and the way it felt when his arms were snaked around her broke free at the same time. She wondered what he was doing, and how he was feeling, why couldn’t she get ahold of him? She’d been so excited when calling him, her nerves were on end imaging him answering the phone and hearing that low velvety voice. The feel of Jeremy tapping her arm brought her out of her daze.

“Miss Abbie, I am in need of a chamber pot.” He whispered.

“Okay.” Abbie replied looking around to see if she could spot a restroom. After a moment she gave up and asked for clerk where it was located.

She took his hand and headed into the women’s bathroom. After she gave him a demonstration on how to flush the toilet, she washed her hands and waited for him outside of the stall. No matter how many times she’d seen people adjusting to this world, she was always intrigued by the way they reacted to it. After watching him slip his hands back and forth under the automatic water faucet for what seemed like the hundredth time she handed him a paper towel and called an end to his little water party. He looked up at her, eyes glowing.

“That is…sweet.” He said hesitantly, like he wasn’t really confident that he was using the word correctly. Abbie couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Yeah, I guess it is pretty sweet.” She smiled. “You’re a fast learner.” She complimented him. He hid bashful grin away from her, happy, but unsure how to reply to her comment when he felt not entirely worthy of it.

On their way back to the desk they heard music coming from down the hall, faint at first but growing louder as they approached the main hallway. Abbie recognized the melody as Billie Holiday’s _You Go To My Head_ , and started quietly singing along. She paused in front of the doorway to enjoy the music a little longer and without quite noticing let her voice ring out and fill the space. She even allowed herself to close her tired eyes at this part she’s particularly fond of. Jeremy gazes up at her as she sang, the timbre of her voice reminded him of his mama’s, he quickly feels a comfort that he hadn’t felt since she’d last sang to him. When Abbie re-opens her eye’s she notices that concierge was standing in audience.

_Good lord Abbie shut-up. S_ he was so tired her social graces and good manners had taken a dip.

“Please don’t stop on my account, that was…beautiful.” He commented. “Truly. Are you a big fan of Billie’s?” He asked.

“Oh.” Abbie groaned through a pained expression. “Huge, I like a lot of the greats.”

“Now do you, let’s hear your top five.” He smiled.

Abbie gasped. “These are serious, serious questions Stewart.” She smiled reading his nametag. “I hardly know you.” She joked raising an eyebrow.

He let out a soft chuckle as they started back toward the desk. “Forgive me in saying your voice sure makes me feel like you do, I’m nearly certain I heard _every_ love and heartbreak I ever had right there in your voice. Now how does such a tiny young woman get a big ole voice like that?”

“My mama,” Abbie says slightly bending her lips up. “Though she always said it was really from my grandma.”

“Wow, I haven’t heard that song done so perfectly since Billie sang it herself.” Stewart reflected.

“Wait a minute you actually saw Billie Holiday perform?” She asked, before adding. “In person?”

“Sure, lets see, it’s been about fifty-eight years ago at Carnegie Hall. I was just a little older than your boy back then, twelve years old.” He stated glancing at Jeremy. “But I loved every minute of it.”

“Wow.” Abbie says genuinely surprised on multiple fronts, one of them being that the man before looked a good ten years younger than seventy. “That must have been amazing.” Abbie stated trying to picture the ambiance of such a concert.

“I’ll never forget it. Do you perform?” He asked.  

“Uh, aside from in the shower, or karaoke every now and again, not really.” She acknowledged.

“Pity, you have a gift, you should share it.”

Stewart looked down at Jeremy as they arrived back at the desk, he’d behaved wonderfully for as long as they’d been waiting.

“If you’re up for it I have an idea. The room we have available is so because one of our scheduled performers fell ill and had to cancel last moment. If you’d like to share that lovely voice with our guests I’m willing to comp the room. Also I’ll send over a gown for tomorrow’s performance, and have an appointment scheduled for hair and makeup at our spa. You’ll be performing with the jazz quartet you heard playing a moment ago, mostly jazz standards and such. Well what do you say?”

_Are you serious, I have no money, no wallet, no phone, no food, no place to sleep, and a child to look after, I would do almost anything short of selling my ass to get that room._

“Hmm, throw in one of those pecan balls I keep hearing so much about and you’ve got yourself a deal.” She beamed.

After introducing her and Jeremy to the group he showed them up to their room. The only identification she had was her Sleepy Hollow Police Department ID and badge, because they were clipped to her belt, but Stewart said it would do nicely in lieu of her driver’s license.  Jeremy grabbed hold of Abbie the moment the elevator started moving, causing her to place a reassuring hand on his back, “Don’t worry we’re fine.” She said. He remembered she had done the same thing in the lost world when the creatures surrounded them, and though he didn’t fully believe her then, he did now. He’d been looking after himself for a while, bouncing from place to place, running from the law, hiding in the woods and living off the land, surviving mostly on the herbs and plants his mama had taught him he could eat. He learned early on not to trust others, but there was something different about her, something that made him feel like it was okay to trust her in a way he’d only trusted his family. Maybe because she is family, he reasoned.

The first thing Abbie did when they got to the room was plug in her phone and hit the showers. She’d flicked through the television channels, stopping on a road runner cartoon to keep Jeremy occupied while she was freshening up. Her shower was much shorter than the one she deserved but she didn’t want to leave him alone any longer than she needed to.

“If someone comes to the door don’t open it, you come and knock on the bathroom door, just over here, and get me. I’ll be right back, I need you to sit right here.” She instructed. He told her as much with his eyes as he did with his mouth that he understood her meaning.

“Yes ma’am.” He answered.

She hated putting her dirty clothes back on, but what was she going to do, she found a small sack to put her panties in, and slid back into her jeans. After dressing she brought Jeremy in and showed him how to operate the shower. It was ironic that he was a child but he seemed to grasp and understand everything much easier than Ichabod or Katrina had.

“I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything.” She told him.

Once outside the bathroom she nearly ran to her phone, smiling seeing it had charged enough to power on. She sat crossed legged next to the outlet.

_Ichabod._ It seemed his name was on an endless loop in her head, she needed to hear his voice, to feel the comfort it always brought her. She had so much to tell him she didn’t know where to begin, but first she had to get him on the line. Her breath was held prisoner at the base of her throat while the phone rang. Ichabod stood reaching for his phone assuming that it was Miss Jenny calling to check in on him. She’d been running herself ragged keeping watch over him, while making sure to spend time with Delton, and even seeing if Katrina needed anything. Captain Irving had invited her to join him and Macey at the park sensing she needed a break, and Ichabod had insisted that she go when he overheard her trying to decline the invitation. But it wasn’t Miss Jenny calling.

“Abbie?” He nearly fell to his knees when he saw his wife’s smiling face spread across his screen, with a little missive over the top of it that read, “Apple calling.”

“Abbie?!” He muttered, eyes pasted to the screen, as his body shook as forcefully as the phone vibrating in his palm.

Abbie leaned her head back against the wall she was seated in front of.

It was instant, the physical effect his voice had upon her body. Her heart pounded so violently beneath her ribcage that it seemed to be the only thing she could hear. He called her name in her most favorite way, sounding like Habbie not Abbie. It was the way he always said it when he was excited, and just hearing it brought her back to the countless times they lay tangled in one another’s arms as he whispered over and over again.

“You’re a hard man to get a hold of Ichabod Crane.” She finally managed.

His heart forgot how to beat. The room suddenly appeared dim, and the objects contained in it refused to be still, moving and swaying about like a fallen leaf on an autumn breeze. His hand darted out from his side cupping one of the poles for balance. He couldn’t quite believe his ears, he needed to hear her speak again.

“Abbie!?” There was a static filled interference on the line that quickly brought him to the edge of sanity. “No, no, no, Abbie, Apple are you there?” His bones trembled, and ears clouded over as he waited to hear her sweet voice again.  

“I’m here, can you hear me?” A soft voice finally called through the phone.

Tears flooded Ichabod’s eyes, as he dispelled a relieved breath. “I can treasure, praise God I can.” He cried. “Tell me where you are, I’m coming to you at once.”

“It might be more difficult than you think, I’m in Michigan, a place called Mackinac Island, maybe you’ve heard of it or Fort Mackinac.

“Mackinac.” Ichabod eyebrows linked together for a moment. “Are you referring to Fort Michilimackinac, I know it, I was there during the war. Hold fast I am on my way.”

“Honey-honey-honey, you can’t. I miss you, and I can’t wait to see you but by the time you get anywhere close to here the ferries will be done running for the night, it’s an island you can’t drive in, and even if you could cars aren’t allowed.”

His head fell. “But”

“—Listen I’m staying at a place called the Pine Hotel, the concierge agreed to let me have this room in exchange for singing a few sets early tomorrow evening, and as soon as that’s done we’re going to be on the next ferry out. I left my wallet at home so I’m going to need you or Jenny to meet us in a town called Mackinac City, I don’t have a definite time yet but probably around nine o’clock.

“We, us?” Did he dare? Did he dare to hope or dream that not only was she still alive, but she had rescued his son as well? His heart raced, as his lips parted open awaiting her reply.

“Yes we.” She confirmed, beaming, and feeling a little weepy as she recognized the repressed emotion in his voice.

“Jeremy and I…baby…he’s beautiful, he looks just like you.”  Ichabod was quiet on the other end of the line, and she knew that he was crying. She waited until she heard him clear his throat to continue speaking.

Just moments before he was at one of the lowest points he had ever been to in his life, and now he was over the moon. He felt weak, all of the anxiety and grief he’d been experiencing was meeting with a joy the likes of which he had never before experienced and he body was overcome trying to process it. He returned to his seat cradling his phone in one hand, and his head in the other as he listened to his wife speak.     

“Sweetie he’s a good kid, he’s kind, and polite, and so, so smart.   He learns and adapts to things quicker than I can believe.”

Ichabod didn’t know what to say, and even if he did he doubted he could have gotten it out through his tears.

“Apple.” He struggled, “Thank you…thank you…I need to see you, both of you.” He whispered.

“And you will, tomorrow. When Jeremy’s finished showering I can take a pic and send it to you if you’d like.”

Ichabod made sure to make no noise while his tears fell but he was certain she knew. He swallowed and tightened his voice, more Captain, less overwrought husband and father. “I would like that very much.” He said drying his eyes.

“How’s Jenny?” Abbie asked sliding the charger cord between her fingers.

“She has been the pillar of strength for us both, reminding me to keep the faith that this very moment would come. If it were not for her, I do not think I would have survived this long without you.”

Abbie knew she could count on her. She knew that she would be hurt, worried, and mad as hell, but that she would soldier on as best as she could, and most of all she knew she’d force Ichabod to as well. It was a part of who she was, a part of both girls really, an inner strength that rested in their mother’s backbone that was now fused to theirs. Their mother fought demons—alone, and all the ones they fought together gave the Mill’s sisters a greater appreciation for everything she’d been through.

As soon as he told her Jenny was okay she knew Delton was taken care of. Jenny knew how important he was to Abbie and wouldn’t let anything happen to him in her absence, but she couldn’t help but ask. “And Delton?”

I saw him yesterday for the first time since you left…but Jenny has spent more time with him.” He quickly adds in fear of her disappointment. “He’s been told that you were called away on special police duty and that is why you have been unable to ring him. “He misses you, we all miss you.”

She held the phone a little tighter wanting to feel nearer to him, chastising herself for her unspoken complaints about their distance. _It could have been so much worse, be thankful you’re both in the same country, hell the same world._

“I miss you too.” She said softly.

There was a knock at the door that caught her off guard causing her to flinch. “Someone’s at the door.” She said springing up. “Sweetie I need to get this I’ll call back in a little while, can you call Jenny and let her know I’m okay?”

The last thing he wanted to do was hang up the phone, he’d been so long without her he would have been content to simply listen her breathing. “Of course. I will notify her right away—Abbie…I love you.”

“I love you too, I’ll talk to you soon.” She promised before ending the call. “Who is it.” She called through the door, lifting to her tiptoes to check the peephole.

“Room service.” The man responded.

“I didn’t order room service.” Abbie replied.

“Yes Madam I know, it’s compliments of Mr. Wilson, the concierge.” He quickly added when he realized that Mr. Wilson hadn’t resonated.

“Oh from Stewart.” She said opening the door. The gentlemen entered closely followed by a woman pushing a garment rack.

Hello I’m Crystal, Mr. Wilson asked me to bring you a few selections to choose from for tomorrow night’s performance. He also mentioned that your luggage had been lost, and asked that I bring you and your son a few extra things, as the hotel does have a no denim policy after 6:30pm.” She said with a small grin looking down at Abbie’s jeans.

“Oh.” Abbie said glancing at the clock. It was a little after five, but she had no intentions of leaving her room anyhow. She normally would have sent them back but there was a soft pair of pajama’s that her skin was begging to be surrounded by.

“Please thank him for me, and tell him that I will send payment for the clothes, he’s too kind.”

“He anticipated that you might say that, and he said that the clothes are a part of your compensation.” She grinned. “Well when you’re all set give us a ring, and we’ll have someone retrieve the gowns you’ve decided against.”

The server announced the entrée’s he’d brought, and even as hungry as she was Abbie knew there was no way she and Jeremy would get through all of the food.

“Wow!” Her eye’s stretched across their setup, herb roasted chicken served with polenta and veggies, beef tenderloin with a potato puree, as well as a hamburger, and chicken tender meal, salads, and soups that smelled absolutely delicious.”

“It’s Tuscan white bean, with sausage and greens.” The in room server answered when she inquired what kind it was. “And last but not least.” He sang opening the lid to an ice bucket to reveal her pecan ball. She didn’t know how on earth she could ever repay Stewart for the kindness he’d shown them, his compassion made her a little fonder of all of humanity.     

Jeremy came out right as they were exiting the room.

“I hope you’re hungry.” She said watching him marvel at the palate before them.

“Are there others joining us?” He asked.

Abbie took a seat at the table. “Nope, it’s just me and you.” She said causing his eye’s to pop out of his head.

An hour later she and Jeremy sat on the floor leaning against the couch, capping off their monumental pig out session with the pecan ball.

“You father loves ice-cream and pecans he would lose his mind over this dessert, if he were here he would eat this entire thing.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth Abbie could see a gentle shift in the boy’s demeanor. Only seconds before he had been laughing when Abbie declared that she would probably burst out of her pants if she took one more bite of food. He gazed down at the platter in front of her crossed legs and swirled another scoop of pecans, caramel, and ice-cream around his spoon.

“I am full as well.” He decided dropping the spoon.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

He bit his lip, as a pensive gaze overtook his face. “What are they like?” He asked in the quietest voice she’d heard him use thus far. “—My parents.” He clarified.

Abbie scooched her bottom closer against the couch until she was sitting up straighter. “Honestly…I don’t know your mother that well, I met her very recently, but she seems nice, and strong, and I heard her telling a story about when you were first born, the day you were born…she said it was the most joyful day of her life.” _Which is why I don’t understand how she could forget when that day was, but I can’t tell him that._

“Your father is..” Abbie fought off the smile that wanted to form across her lips. “A pretty cool dude.” She lost, and found herself smiling ever so slightly at the mere mention of him. Abbie looked over in time to see a perplexed look on Jeremy’s face. “Oh, it means he’s a great man. A good man.” She restated.

“You already know that he was a Captain in the Revolutionary Army, a hero…He’s strong, but gentle, and kind. He’s funny, and pretty smart but don’t tell him I told you that.” She smirked. “He’s a professor—a teacher…and I happen to know that he thinks about you all of the time.”

Now it was Jeremy’s turn to try to fight off a goofy smile, he fared about as well as Abbie. The light coming through balcony door reminded her that it wasn’t as late as it felt, but there would be no convincing her body. A deep yawn whirled through her as her arms twisted and stretched toward the sky. After releasing from the stretch it was clear that her bones had never been more tired than they were at that very moment. It was only out of sheer will that she was able to rise from the floor and start gathering up their used dishes and half eaten portions of food. After clearing their mess the pair changed into the pajamas that Stewart had sent up as part of their care package, grabbed some blankets, and took to the couch to zonk out in front of the T.V. Abbie could feel herself fading fast so she stretched out leaving the last cushion to Jeremy. A quiet peace settled upon the room, the older cartoons splaying across the television screen had left Jeremy utterly captivated. The low hum of the musical backgrounds and sound effects returned her to a place of simplicity and peace that she hadn’t much remembered since she was a small child, huddled together with Jenny watching the same cartoons. It was so long ago, and so much of the world had changed, but somehow this was still funny. A cat chasing a mouse, only to be outsmarted by it time and time again, a coyote concocting elaborate plans to catch a bird, and a carrot toting, wise cracking, bunny outsmarting his would be captures. As a child she never really noticed how terrible they all were to each other, they would beat one another senseless with whatever they could get their hands on, in addition to stabbings, decapitations, and attempts to drop one another off the side of a cliff, but it was funny. Until that moment she never really realized that these same cartoons had subtly preconditioned her to extract humor from pain. Jeremy shifted on the couch leaning closer to the TV seeing that Tom was unknowingly set a blaze, he could smell the smoke but was unaware that the fire was coming from him, the young boy knotted his hands and smiled anticipating Tom’s reaction to learning he was where the smoke was originating from. Unbridled giggles sifted through the air as Tom jumped into a vat of water to extinguish the flames. Jeremy’s powder-blue eyes sparkled with amusement as he turned to Abbie to see if she found that part funny as well, a small plea for companionship and community that we all sought out at one time or another, the simple act of finding humor in the same things helps us to feel a little closer to each other, helps us to feel not so alone. They sat watching and laughing until sleep came to claim her. She drifted in and out of a twilight state, snoozing then rousing to making certain he was still where she’d left him. When she realized her sleep was pulling her deeper, she gently reminded him not to open the door for anyone, and to wake her if he needed anything or got down off of the couch.    

“Miss Abbie.” Abbie sat up swiftly feeling Jeremy’s hand softly nudging her arm. The room had darkened considerably, the only light stemmed from the television screen.

“I need to use the lavatory—I mean bathroom.” He whispered.

“Okay.” Abbie said sitting up. “I’ll be right here, let me know if you need anything.” She knew that she was being a bit overprotective, but while he was in her care she was going to go above and beyond.  

_Thump, thump, thump._

_Is that the door?_ Abbie stood and picked up her phone that had slid partially beneath the couch to check the time. It was 11:45pm. She took a few steps in the direction of the restroom thinking perhaps it was Jeremy knocking on something.

That’s when she heard it again. _Thump, thump, thump._

“Coming.” She called. Abbie reached under the couch cushion she’d been sleeping on and grabbed her gun, she’d unloaded it and placed it under there when she was certain Jeremy wasn’t looking. As she passed the small cabinet table she opened the draw and removed her clip just in case.

_Moloch is dead, the war is over._ The little voice in the back of her head told her. She always hated that voice, and she never trusted it. It was the happy optimistic one that always tried to convince her that everything was fine. She couldn’t even count all of the lies it had told her, that daddy was coming home, she just needed to be a good girl, that mama would get better, and they’d all be together again, that she never saw a demon in the woods, she was just imaging things. She did feel that they were free, that the battle was finished, but something about a strange knock in the middle of the night, in a place where she knew absolutely no one left her wary. She had a life to protect, and she couldn’t afford to be callous about anything. Abbie rested her palms against the door and stood on her tip toes to look through the peep hole. She gasped, rubbed her eyes, and looked through again to make certain she was seeing things correctly. A sudden jolt of weakness and strength coursed through her body as her heart throbbed against her shaking interior.  

“How in the world…” Abbie reached over to place her gun on the table while almost simultaneously twisting the lock, and swinging the door open to welcome in the bearded face she’d been dreaming of just minutes before.

He stood in the hallway clutching a bouquet of deep red roses, and a brown sack. She looked up, he looked down, and their eyes locked. There was the tiniest moment of stillness between them, a split second where each of them drank the other in after days of deprivation. Instantly she was home, all because of this tall, wide shouldered man filling up the door frame. She took a deep breath in, only to be raised from her feet before she ever got a chance to let it out. The bag and two dozen roses fell to the floor in the commotion. The way he hugged her told her everything she needed to know, he didn’t have to say it. His arms formed an impenetrable seal around her so snug and tight that it surely would have hurt if she weren’t so blissfully happy. Her fingertips dug into his shoulder blades as her softer parts flattened against him. Just when she thought he would release her and return her to the ground he held her tighter still. Strong and protective, somehow she could feel his love more so than she ever had before, to think that she could have lost this feeling forever, that she might not have made it back and all of this could have been gone hit her all at once. A few tears fell from her eyes, and he could feel her body jerking against him as she tried to hold the rest of them in. He breathed her in a few times, the wonderful mixture of her hair and skin that seemed to be the very thing he needed to live. He reluctantly returned her to the ground, but he never let her go. She had better get used to being in his arms, because he doubted he could ever unwrap them from around her. He opened his mouth to speak all of the many truths he’d discovered, he needed to tell her that his life was meaningless without her, that he never wanted to go through anything like that ever again, that he would never properly assemble the words to describe the overwhelming happiness he felt when he realized that she was alive, but he couldn’t. His water-logged eyes threatened to spill if he dared utter one word, so he just held onto her as he pressed his lips into her temple. His tears spilled anyway.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.” Abbie managed in a broken quiet tone.

“No.” He replied quickly wiping her tears with his hand, and following them with kisses. “You needn’t apologize, you returned to me, and that is the only thing that matters.” His palm pressed firmly into the base of her back. “Please promise that you will never leave again.” He stepped back, and bent forward so he could look straight into her eyes. “I cannot live without you Abbie…I have no desire to.”

Abbie held his face between her palms, and pressed her lips against his. “I promise.” She stated overcome with love just from looking into his tearful eyes. “Oh I missed you.” She said stepping to her tiptoes to experience his soft kiss once more.

“How is this possible? How did you get here?” She mumbled feeling his impatient kisses landing upon every inch of her face.

“I would scale mountains if they stood between us, I most certainly had no intention of letting a bit of water keep me from you.” He answered.

“But…the ferries.”

“I chartered a plane.” He half laughed. “Did you know there is an airport located on this very island, more accurately it is but a road, but here I am nonetheless.”

Abbie’s eyes grew soft with adoration. “You chartered a plane?” She swooned. “For me?” Ichabod chuckled softly and tightened his grip around her waist.

“I would forfeit my soul for you, surely you know that by now. Also Miss Jenny informed me, and I quote, that she “wasn’t about to watch to my skinny arse pace the floor for one more minute.” He smiled, briefly before his expression grew serious. “As soon as I heard your voice my fate was sealed, I had to see you.” He confessed.

“Honey, you didn’t have to waste money because,” Ichabod quickly took her lips in his, not only silencing her, but making her forget what she was saying in the first place. He kisses her properly this time, and she loses herself inside of his firm arms as he takes care to explore every portion of her soft lips. His limbs lift her up as his mouth comes down over hers, she dies a little as his sweet tongue traces soft swirls over and through her full lips.    

“It is unimportant.” He rumbled against her mouth, before leaning back. She was left clutching fistfuls of his shirt trying to steady herself as her eye’s eased open.

She glanced down at the roses surrounding their feet.

“Are those for me?” She asked bending to pick one up. “They’re beautiful.” She added sniffing the center.

“Forgive me for not knowing, everything pales in comparison to you, the stars, the heavens.” He rested his head on top of hers while taking a deep breath. “I was so afraid that my eyes would never look upon you again.”  Just then it clicked that he was looking at her.

“Oh my God!” Abbie said quickly grabbing her hair. She turned to catch sight of herself in the mirror that hung above the table and remembered that while _she_ had returned from the land of the lost, her blowout unfortunately _had not_. Honestly she needed a wash but there was no way she was going to chance it without a wide tooth comb, or Denman brush.  She’d drug a lazy somewhat horizontal part across her hair and placed it into two large bantu knots before going to sleep—without a scarf, she’d looked better, but let him tell it she was the flyest thing walking.

Ichabod sighed and pressed his lips to her forehead, soft and long, allowing himself to relax for the first time since she’d left. “You’re perfect.” He whispered grabbing her hand just after she uncoiled her bottom knot.   He rested his forehead against hers, taking his hand through the freshly loosened hair on the back her neck. “Absolutely perfect.”  

Abbie heard the faucet running in the bathroom and gently squeezed Ichabod’s arm before nodding in that direction. She wondered how Jeremy would react, he’d only been in the bathroom less than five or six minutes, but a lot had transpired in that time.

Ichabod’s eyes grew large and alert. He couldn’t wait to meet Jeremy, but he essentially concluded that introductions would have to wait until the morning due to the late hour. He thought for sure that the most he could hope for tonight was to watch him sleeping. But he wasn’t sleeping, and Ichabod was both terrified and ecstatic that he would finally have the chance to talk to the child he feared he would never know. Tiny reservations prodded away at his insides, and almost like she was sitting inside of his head, Abbie turned to him.

“Don’t worry, remember, you’re his father, he’s going to love you.” She took him by the hand and led him further into the room, so when Jeremy exited the bathroom he wouldn’t feel bombarded.         

The lock on the bathroom door clicked, and Ichabod’s lips flew open as his back straightened more rigidly than it ever had. The little boy walked into the room and stopped dead in his tracks. Ichabod too was frozen still, feeling as though he was looking into a mirror that reflected him of yesteryears, only far more precious than he could have ever hoped to be. Of all the moments it could have chosen his mind picked that one to go blank, and somehow in doing so convinced his lungs that the rest of his body had no use for oxygen.

“Jeremy?” Abbie said noticing he hadn’t advanced into the room. He stood still, his light brown hair taking on the slightest wave around his ear.

“It’s okay, come here.” She said holding out her hand to him. Jeremy quietly stepped forward, taking slow but long steps until he came to take Abbie’s hand on the opposite side of Ichabod.

Abbie rested her free hand on Ichabod’s arm. “This is your father, Ichabod Crane.”


	21. Where to Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and all of the comments and reviews, you guys are always so cool and super insightful, I love reading them, and hearing all of your different interpretations of things. I was really struggling to find time for these chapters and I’m glad you guys stuck with me and are still reading, I know it’s easy to forget stories that aren’t updated more regularly. Because I took so long with these chapters at the very end, the final paragraph is the beginning of Chapter 22 (which isn’t written, but is heavily outlined.) I hope you all enjoy it!

    

Jeremy’s fingers tightened around Abbie’s as he tilted his head back to take in the full view of his father. He’d known who he was from the moment he exited the bathroom, having spent hours on end staring at the portrait in the locket his mama had given him. He was bigger than he pictured him to be, but barring that he looked much the same.

“Pleased to meet you sir,” he said releasing Abbie, and extending his small hand. “My name is Jeremy.” Ichabod nearly lost it, his lips pressed together, nearly as quickly as his other features tightened and drew in as he searched for strength. He didn’t have it, but he knew beyond a doubt that he needed to find it and fast. He still vividly remembered the first time he’d ever seen a man cry, how traumatic an experience it was for him, and even if the tears in his eyes were tears of joy his son would not bear witness to them falling this day. His hand stretched forward, firmly grasping the smaller version of itself.

“Yes I am aware.” He stated. He had so many questions, _How old are you, what do you like to do in your pastime, do you even have a pastime, what is your favorite food, or favorite subject in school_ , all of which he severely regretted not knowing the answer to, and the handshake, though a blessing, was a reminder of the still formal nature of their relationship. Ichabod decided then and there that he wouldn’t waste another second in rectifying that. He stooped down.

“I am so inexpressibly pleased to meet you as well my son.” He added reaching out and wrapping his arms around him. He closed his eyes and gently placed his hand behind the child’s head as he felt his arms circle around him in return.

Ichabod swallowed hard as he held his son, there was nothing he could do to keep his nose from running but he managed to ward off his tears. He couldn’t believe that this little person had somehow chosen him as a vessel to make his way into this world. He fell in love with him instantly. His reddened eyes lifted until they found Abbie, he never thought it possible that he could hold any more love for her than he already did, but in that moment it grew. His lips trembled as he peered up at her in full recognition and appreciation for the child she’d delivered into his arms. Thank you was insufficient, and even if he hadn’t found it so utterly lacking for the occasion he couldn’t have said it anyway, he couldn’t say anything. But the way he looked at her…she knew.

A misty eyed Abbie offered a swift nod before an eye glistening grin touched her lips. “I’m going to give you two a minute.” She sniffled, going back to the hall to pick up her flowers.  

Ichabod seated himself on the floor, giving three quick pats to the checkered carpet, a clear invitation to join him that wasn’t lost on Jeremy. The boy sat down in front of him and crossed his legs. Ichabod couldn’t help but notice how hopefully he gazed up at him, his eyes mixed with a bit of wonder and reverence.  

“Jeremy”

“Yes father?” He answered immediately.

“I understand that you have had a terribly rough time of it, and that there were times when you were hurt, and alone, and none was there to protect you, or to help you. You know me not from Adam, and you have no reason to believe me, but it is my deepest prayer that you do believe me when I say that those times have come to pass, never again shall you be alone, or without aid, or without anything you might need…because I am your father, and I will watch over you, and be here for you until the end of all eternity. I love you more than you could possibly know. Do you understand that?”

“Yes sir.” He answered and then glanced toward the dining area where Abbie was arranging her flowers in a water bottle she’d cut the top portion from.

“Miss told me so earlier this evening…that you love me very much. She displayed for me a painting,” The boy scratched his head, “or rather what she said is actually a photograph of you upon her…her—the device used to talk and fellowship with those who are not present.”

“Her telephone.” Ichabod offered.

“Yes sir.” He smiled. “We took one together as well, Miss Abbie said it is called a selfie. She tried to send it to you, however her device failed.”

Ichabod couldn’t believe that any of this was happening, that he was sitting next to his son he long imagined dead, carrying on a conversation—about selfie’s no less. One of his least favorite subjects however he could have spoken with him at length about anything and it would have been fascinating to him. He was perfect.

“That’s unfortunate.” Ichabod smirked looking over at Abbie shaking his head. “I must confess that is one selfie I would have loved to have seen.”

Jeremy perked up. “You still can see it sir, she said it lasts until she removes it, she has a lot of photographs of you upon her telephone,” His eyes grew big and wide with excitement, and his hands expressively waved through the air as he spoke, “some that even move and talk called…” Jeremy leaned his head back as he tried to remember the word.

“Vid.” Abbie started, quickly jogging his memory.

“Videos!” He called out, smiling. “I saw one of you and Miss, and she was sitting down and you wanted to sit next to her but she moved away, and you smiled and said, Abbie is a sore loser, she refuses to even sit next to me because I’ve just defeated her at chess.” He said imitating his father’s deeper voice. “And then you said I’m recording this video so you will always remember what a poor sport you are being, what do you have to say for yourself Abbie, and she did not say anything but she made a funny face like this” Jeremy narrowed his eyes and frowned up pursing his lips, “ and then you screamed, and the video shook, and moved all around, and then it cut off. After that Miss said that we had probably watched enough video’s for the day.”

Ichabod’s eyes cut toward Abbie remembering the day she attacked him for filming her while she was pissed. She could have given him a warning she was that angry and he would have stopped before she felt the need to use close quarter combat techniques.” Ichabod sat up even straighter, stretching his neck, and lifting his nose. “I can assure you that I was not screaming, I was more probably singing.”

The boy smiled up at him taking his every word as gold. “I sing soprano as well father?”

Abbie was doing everything she could to stay upright, and it wasn’t working. She was nearly in tears trying to hide her laughter. Fortunately even his wounded pride couldn’t spoil this moment for Ichabod, Abbie was back, his son was with him, what more could he want?  

The two of them laughed and talked for the better part of an hour while Abbie went into the bedroom to try on the gowns that had been dropped off. She’d come out every now and again and see how they liked the one she was currently wearing. Ichabod brought over the paper bag, and let Jeremy open the gift that he’d purchased him. Jeremy ran his fingers along the shiny blue toy.

“This” Ichabod said taking hold of it, “Is called a remote control car.” He placed the remote in Jeremy’s hands, leaning close to him to show him how to work it. Delton loved remote control cars, so he hoped Jeremy would find them entertaining as well. Abbie was just pulling her pajama shirt back over her head when she heard Jeremy screaming and crying at the top of his lungs. She darted into the living area to find him huddled in the furthest corner of the room literally shaking with fear.

“Please, please, I never meant to, please Miss tell him I am sorry, please do not let him hurt me!” He sobbed. “It was a mishap, a mistake!” Abbie saw a shattered vase on the floor and the remote control car against the table leg, and put it together that it must have bumped the leg and caused the vase to fall. Ichabod stood eyes bugged, as he gripped his fingers to his side in order to keep them under control. He was at a loss. When the vase broke he’d yelled “Jeremy no!”, to stop him from trying to pick up the broken pieces, but it wasn’t out of anger, he was simply worried that he would cut himself. Instead it frightened the boy immediately, and every step Ichabod took toward him after that caused him to scream and cry. Ichabod knew why. Everything they had learned about the headmaster at Jeremy’s orphanage proved him to be a maniacal psychopath and Jeremy had been stuck there beneath his thumb.

Abbie sat in the middle of the floor, making herself as small as she could before calmly calling for Jeremy. Her mind flashed to the roaring fire that blazed around them the last time he got scared. He was already in the corner, she didn’t want to approach him and make him feel even more cornered. He needed to come out on his own, at his own pace, and he needed to know that they would be there for him when he did.

“Jeremy.” She spoke slowly. “Honey come here. Come sit with me a while. No one is going to hurt you, I promise. Remember, your father loves you, he would _never_ hurt you.” The couple looked on as the child pulled his head up, and slowly stood to his feet. He stayed in the corner for a moment choking back sobs until he finally stepped toward Abbie. When he stood in front of her, it was hard for her to hold back her own tears seeing the pain in his eyes, he was so worked up.

“Oh Sweetie.” She sighed pulling him to her lap. He wasn’t a baby, and she wasn’t his mother, but in that moment he needed mothering, so she held and rocked him as though he were one. His head tucked against her as one of her arms came up around his shoulder, and the other lay beneath the backside of his knees. His warm tears spilled unto her shirt as he shuddered against her chest, quick gasps ripped through him forcing their way into his lungs as he tried to catch his breath. Ichabod’s hands tightened into fists and Abbie only needed a partial glance up to see the fury in his eyes. She slowly turned her head from side to side, and he knew quickly what she meant. There was no person or monster he could beat or kill to help Jeremy feel better, the damage had been done, and he knew his anger would prove useless in helping to heal it. If he could’ve gone back in time and gotten his hands on the monster who brutalized his son he would have as Miss Jenny would say, beaten the fuck out of him. He couldn’t, and he knew it, but that didn’t make him hate him any less.   He didn’t know what to do with the hatred, the anger that twisted his belly, and burned up through his chest so fiercely he could almost feel his heart hardening. And then there was her, and those eyes, sparkling mahogany orbs that seemed to be the only thing capable of reaching him when he got this way. Her face covered with sorrow as she observed him, and he knew deep down that the same sadness was what lay beneath all of his anger. He looked away from her face, it was calming him, breaking him down, and making him let go of the anger that was protecting him from everything he didn’t want to feel. Anger was always easier to deal with, but the hurt and pain of his son’s mistreatment, the fact that someone could treat a child that way, whipping him simply because they could, the fact that he wasn’t there to stop it, killed him. Abbie hugged Jeremy in her arms, letting his legs fall across hers as she stroked his hair.

“Shhh, it’s okay sweetie.” She whispered over his quiet sobs. She started quietly humming a tune that popped into her head, hoping a soft song would help take his mind off of the pain and fear he was feeling right now. Ichabod regarded her through glazed eyes, grateful for the care she took with his son, giving love that for understandable reasons Jeremy wasn’t able to accept from him right now. Abbie pulled her hand from beneath the child’s legs and reached up and wrapped it around Ichabod’s. She gave a small tug, letting him now that perhaps now Jeremy may have calmed enough to allow him closer. He was hesitant, still able to clearly hear how badly the boy screamed when he tried to come near him before, the last thing he wanted to do was frighten him again. But with Abbie’s silent reassurance he kneeled at their side and slowly laid his hand over the one Abbie had draped around the boy’s shoulder. Ichabod watched as a small shiver moved through his son’s body, a sign he was coming down from all of the crying. In that moment his heart shattered, and he swore to himself then and there that he would never allow anyone to hurt him ever again. He sat on his bottom in front of the couch, slid behind Abbie and pulled his long leg around hers until he incased her. Abbie felt his hands slip beneath the back of her knees and slide her, and the child she was holding back to rest against him. Once she and Jeremy were wrapped securely in his arms she let the words of the melody she’d been humming out of her mouth. She took her time with it, letting every note sit on her lips until she was ready to push it out, until she was ready to part with it.

_“Spend all your time waiting, for that second chance_

_For a break that would make it okay_

_There’s always some reason, to feel not good enough_

_And it’s hard at the end of the day_

_I need some distraction, oh a beautiful release_

_Memories seep from my veins_

_Let me be empty, oh and weightless and maybe_

_I’ll find some peace tonight_

_In the arms the angel_

_Fly away from here_

_From this dark cold hotel room_

_And the endlessness that you fear_

_You are pulled from the wreckage_

_Of your silent reverie_

_You’re in the arms of the angel_

_May you find some comfort here”_

 

Hours later they found themselves in the same position, the song long complete, and Jeremy’s sniffles traded in for deep peaceful breathes as he quietly snoozed. Both of them knowing that the other was awake, even though in such still silence it was a wonder they weren’t sleeping. Both of them turning over the night’s events in their head, wanting to talk about it, but too tired and conflicted to do so. He spoke first, as she knew he would, because she never wanted the thoughts and words in her head to see the light of day. But what kind of a person would she be if they didn’t? What kind of friend would she be? She wondered.  

“Thank you.” He whispered. “For saving him...for saving me.” A warm tear slid down her cheek as she felt his lips touching her temple. She bit her lip searching for an external distraction from the internal pain she was feeling, stopping only when she feared she would break the skin.

She cleared her throat, as if there was a scratch in the back of it, instead of a giant lump.

“We should put him down.” She said, looking down at Jeremy sprawled out over her half dead legs. She moved forward to start getting up but Ichabod stopped her.

“No allow me.” He said using the couch to lift himself from the floor. “You have done so much aleady.” He gathered the sleeping child up into his arms, and carried him to bed, taking care not to bump his head or limp limbs on the door to the bedroom. Abbie’s head was spinning. Her mind recalled tiny little incidents that she had noticed but thought would prove to be nothing. Or maybe hoped is a better word. At the time she thought maybe she was overreacting but now it was plain to see, the way he scurried to her side when Robbie’s father raised his voice, and the way he flinched when the man at the front desk offered him the sucker. _I should have known then._

Ichabod couldn’t help but think how surreal it all felt as he pulled the blanket up over his son. Just this morning he felt like he was at the end of his rope, and tonight he had everything he’d ever wanted. He couldn’t stop looking at him. The buzzing of his phone took him from his trance. He looked down at the text message.

**Katrina** : Ichabod, I hope that you are well, that all is well, you did not contact me upon your arrival as you promised.

Ichabod silently scolded himself, he knew he had forgotten something. Jeremy’s outburst occurred just as he was preparing to contact her. She wanted to come, to be here to meet their son but the arrangements were such that he had to leave directly from Gideon’s in order to make it to the airport in time. Jenny had called in a favor with a friend of hers, a military veteran who now operated a charter jet company. Ichabod offered to pay triple his usual fare in an attempt to make up for the short notice of it all, but he insisted upon not taking a penny more than he normally charged.

“You kiddin me, I’ve gotten wheels up in a shorter timeframe than this, don’t worry about it.” He’d said.

Ichabod held his camera in front of Jeremy, snapped a portrait and sent it to Katrina with a note attached.

**Ichabod:** All is well, please accept my apology for the delay in contacting you. He is beautiful Katrina, I shall be in contact in the morrow, a proud and doting father, -Ichabod Crane.

“He’s resting peacefully.” He said as he pulls the door up behind him. “Abbie I do not know how I can ever repay you for what you’ve…” It’s only then that he catches sight of her, and suddenly he can’t remember what he was saying. She’s perched along the edge of the couch, and he can immediately see that something is askew. He examines the way she’s sitting, her hands gripping the pillow cushion beside her as if she needs the extra leverage to support an invisible weight upon her back. But most alarming is the look in her eyes, wet and glassy through the center, redness all along the edges. He licks his lips.

“What is it?” He asked stepping toward her. She’s quiet, staring off into an empty space in the room like there’s someone there who only she can see. She glances down, her fingertips squeezing the meat of her bottom lip while she’s thinking, deliberating, finally her eyes reach his.

“Crane…”

_Oh God what have I done?_ He wonders.

She slides over. “You should sit down. We need to talk.”

“You’re angry?” He states, ignoring her invitation. “I’ve upset you—hurt you somehow.” He’s assumed, even though he has no idea how. Her hand wraps around his.

“No.” She answers. “I’m not angry.”

Abbie swallows feeling the tears she’d suppressed once again swimming toward the surface of her eyes. “I am upset. But there is nothing that you’ve done, and there is nothing that you could have done differently to change that. To change this. There’s nothing either of us could have done, this is…it’s just the way things are.” She states thoughtfully, like it’s something she’s only just discovered. He shakes his head.

“I am afraid I do not understand. What is it that you’re trying to say, please, tell me, speak plainly so that I might quickly repair whatever has been damaged.” He said bending to bring the back of her hand to his lips.

“There _is_ damage that needs to be repaired, but it won’t be quick, and it’s not with us….Jeremy, baby…”

“—Will be fine,” He interrupts, “He…” Ichabod shoulders dipped as he closes his mouth trying to find the grace to speak through the anger he was feeling. He took a seat next to Abbie, the side of his leg touching hers.

“He was frightened, you understand that after Grace and Joseph perished, that was all he knew. Violence, anger, abuse, fear…he will be well in due time, eventually I _will_ earn his trust, and he shall know in his heart that I would never harm him.”

“I agree, he will get through this.” The crack in her voice worries him, everything about this conversation feels wrong, out of place, she’s so upset, and he remains confused as to why.

She rubs her thumb over his knuckles before continuing. “I have some things to say, and…I need you to listen to me, because I need you to hear me, no matter how much you may not want to. Please allow me this, without interruption.” She asks. She knows him he argues point for point, line by line, methodically, and in the alternative, until either everything is resolved, or nothing gets resolved at all.

“Of course.” He promised, wondering if his manners had been so poor with her that she needed a precursor barring interruption before starting a conversation. Abbie leaned her back against the arm of the couch turning her knees toward Ichabod.

“When Jeremy came out here, and you saw him for the first time, when you looked him in the eyes…your face lit up with this scintillating light, this undoubtable joy…in that moment you were lifted, it was _magical_. To bear witness to that, and to see that instantaneous love for myself…” She shook her head thinking back to how beautiful it was to watch it all unfold. Ichabod was nervous, quiet because he promised to be but if his eyes could speak they would have begged her to just clearly say what was on her mind. So she did.

“Crane, he’s nearly nine. Next year he’ll be ten, and eight years later he’ll be an adult, possibly heading off to college. So yes I believe that he _will_ be well, and that he _will_ come to trust you, and learn to persevere through everything he’s had to endure…but it won’t be easy, and I don’t feel it’s something…” She pauses, closing her eyes for strength because she’s promised herself that she wouldn’t cry, and she tries to hold to that. Still this attempt leads to the paper thin softening of every other word that leaves her mouth, its awkward, and her voice doesn’t sound like her own but it’s the only one that she can use without completely falling to pieces. “I don’t feel it’s something that can be accomplished on Wednesday’s and every other weekend, or one week on, and one week off.” She sobs. “He has some serious, serious issues that are going to require a great deal of support, and love, and attention from both you and Katrina, and I can’t be _the reason_ that he doesn’t get it.” She whispered as her tears combined and rolled down the slope of her nose.

“Abbie.” He said, bringing his hand to wipe her tears. Understanding now what she meant, and refusing to hear any part of it. “Families routinely share time with children, one need only look toward our Captain Irving and his ex-wife for example, and yet young Macey is phenomenal.”

“Yes,” She agrees drying her eyes, “But Jeremy is not coming from that base of realty, he’s never had a life with you and Katrina together, or even apart, that bond still has to be forged. Macey doesn’t have the issues that Jeremy is facing, her father was always there, her mother was always there, she trusts both of them independently, and she’s never been abused, Jeremy doesn’t have that. You and Katrina need every moment, every second to establish that trust…he needs it, he deserves to feel safe, and as much as I love you…” She stops to compose herself, feeling the tears rushing from her eye’s one after another covering every inch of her face. Her voice is hollow and cracked when she speaks again.

“As much as I love you, I can’t share my home, and my life with Katrina in that way. I can’t live like that.”

“I would never ask that of you, that is not my intention.” He argued.

“What is?” Abbie asked waiting for him to realize what she already had.

“Jeremy will be in town, I can purchase a home for them nearby. I could see him every day.”

“When?” She asks.

“Anytime.”

“After work?” She probes.

“I do not need to work.”

“Yes, but you will, and he’ll have school, you realize that right? He will eventually have to go to school. In by eight out at three, and there’s homework, and afterschool activities, and hopefully he’ll be forming and maintaining friendships of his own, but that leaves even less time for the two of you to bond. It won’t be fair to Katrina or Jeremy for him to constantly be at our house, he’ll need her _as much_ as he’ll need you.” Ichabod looked at his wife and could see that she had already travelled further down this road than he had any intention of going. Losing her wasn’t an option, separating wasn’t a possibility.

“We will work something out.” He said slowly.

“Baby what? I’ve _thought_ about this.” She says in a tone meant to remind him of who she was, not only a woman of very high intelligence, but a masterful problem solver. He’s afraid now, hearing her speak so decisively, knowing her, knowing how unbending she can be. Once she set her mind about something, she had a habit of acquiring a sort of tunnel vision, and it’s all that she could see, everything else blurred along the edges. In true Ichabod fashion he transforms his fear into anger so he doesn’t have to feel afraid, so he doesn’t have to hear her, only he doesn’t know what or who to be angry at.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks a little too loudly. Abbie’s eyes dart toward the bedroom door, and he reminds himself to lower his voice.

He tries again. “I need you. Do not _do_ this. I will figure it out, Katrina does not have to live in our home, _we_ will make this work.” Abbie doesn’t know why she bothers drying her tears, because more and more seem to follow.

“It already does work. It just so happens that it works better without me. He needs you, he needs her, she’s his mother Crane.”

“I am aware who his mother is Abbie.” He snaps a little more sharply than she was prepared to hear. Her head rears back at his animosity, and he instantly feels regret.

“I...forgive me.” He’s searches her eyes, seeing the hurt in them, and tries to make an appeal. “Abbie…” He says cupping a hand to the side of her face, “Pease don’t leave me.” He whispers. He must have been a pitiful sight to be sure, on the brink of weeping unashamed in front of the woman he loved. He didn’t care, all the world could brand him a fool so long as she stayed…as long as she didn’t leave. Seeing her weakened he wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her against him, his eyes are only focused on her lips so she’s knows it’s coming, but when his mouth covers hers that advance notice does nothing to help her keep it together. It destroys her, the feel of her lips sliding in and out of his warm mouth take her to a place she can’t control or understand, but nonetheless, never wants to leave. He knows it. Through every disagreement and every fight he knows if he can manage to get his hands on her it will settle things, his touch seems to be the only thing that renders her defenseless. He slides his hand along her thigh gripping the flesh beneath her bottom, and she simultaneously wants him to move it up and not move it at all.

“Please.” He pulls back, softly nuzzling her face before staring at her still closed eyes. She opens them, and can’t begin to contain the love she feels for him, let alone his words are making her question her very purpose.

“I have tried living without you...it simply does not work.” He quietly intoned. “You are my _life_ , you promised to stand with me, we made vows Abbie.” Abbie leans back trying to put space between them so she could think rationally. Somehow being close to him altered the way her brain functioned, things that made no sense seemed perfectly clear when he touched her.

“I promised to always love you, to always be a friend to you, and _that_ is what I’m doing. You can’t see it now, but one day, you will be thankful for this.”

Ichabod is quiet, blank-faced between blinks while he inwardly stews at her words. He’s had it with this conversation, she isn’t stepping aside no matter how much good she thinks it might do. They are husband and wife, they face obstacles together, and that is the way he intends for it to stay. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the bathroom where he hopes to speak freely enough to straighten her out without the risk of waking Jeremy.  

“Have you gone mad?” He asks as soon as he closes the door behind them.

“He might wake up.” She warns.

“He cried himself to sleep, I doubt that he will wake before morning. That however, is beside the point. I will _never_ thank you for leaving me, and I will _never_ accept it.”

Abbie stares up at him as she pleads. “You promised to listen, to really hear me out, but you haven’t.” She says with her hands as much as her voice.

“And _you_ promised to stay, to be my wife.” He countered.

“Baby I can’t. If you only think about it rationally…really think about it for one second and it’s clear what has to happen.” She leans against the bathroom counter.

“Hogwash.” He says angrily, running his hand back through his hair. “I know what you are doing…you help people, you save them and you try to do what you feel is best for them. Treasure I do not need you to do this for me, not for me.”

“I’m not, not totally.” She said folding her arms. “I’m also doing it for Jeremy, and for me.” His eyes widen in surprise, as he tries to determine what could be in it for her.

“I am removing myself from the equation so that he can have a chance at normalcy, and security. So five years down the road he can be the secure, semi-well adjusted kid that he deserves to be, I’m doing this for myself because I know I couldn’t bear what would happen between us, how you would look at me if I stood in the way of that happening.”

“—I would never lay blame upon you.” He interjected raising a finger.

“Ichabod there is no substitute for time, and you and Katrina will need this time with him.” Ichabod’s frown couldn’t have grown any deeper, as he rested his back against the door. He hated her argument, but even he could see it wasn’t without merit. Jeremy had deep seeded trust issues due to his abuse, he needed to spend as much time with him as possible, but it wouldn’t be right or helpful to do that at Katrina’s expense. The best thing for the boy would be to share a home with him and Katrina, but it wasn’t the best thing for him. Ichabod’s inability to see a satisfactory route out of the situation exhausted him, his voice was quiet, and nearly defeated when he next spoke.

“Might we speak about this another time, I haven’t the energy for it tonight.” He needed time, time to figure out a way that everything could come together. He wouldn’t win this argument tonight, and as much as he hated to admit it, reason was on her side. He didn’t have all of the answers, in fact, he didn’t have any. His military training kicked in and seeing he was faced with a battle he had no chance of winning he sought to delay it until a time when he might be victorious.

“This isn’t going to just go away.” She cautioned.

Abbie hated seeing the fragmented expression on his face. They were so happy before, everything was finally going to be perfect. He looked so sad and distraught it took everything in her not to cave and take back every word she’d just said.

“Anyhow,” Her eyes traced the tiles beneath them, “I really don’t know what’s left to say.” Her heart is breaking and her face is doing nothing to hide it, so she hangs her head in an attempt to keep it from view. Ichabod was shaking just listening to her, it all felt bizarre, as if it were a part of some horrific dream, and not really happening at all. But it was, and he didn’t know how to stop it. He loved her, just the way she was, he never wanted to change her or make her into something she wasn’t. But in that moment he wished with all his heart that she was just a little bit simpler, someone who was a little more easily swayed—at least by him, but he knew she wasn’t, the same way he knew that it was a part of the reason he loved her so much. Her arms folded across her chest as she finally found the nerve to meet his eyes. She didn’t say things idly, that he knew, but still…she couldn’t mean what she was saying just then, could she? His stomach tensed into knots as he wondered.The gravity of her words weigh upon him, and he can’t allow this conversation to continue one moment longer. Every minute they remain in it she becomes more convinced that she is doing the right thing. He’s prideful, maybe too, but one could never ascertain that from his interaction with this woman. With her his pride was always subverted, he swallowed it with ease. Maybe this was his penalty, a levy placed upon him for all of the women he met with indifference even as they confessed their love to him. He couldn’t be blamed really, his uncle told him once and he never forgot, to guard his heart as he would his home, lock the door and be most careful of who you allow a key. He gave them no entry, aside from Katrina of course, for a time he’d invited her in, but even her he stopped short of giving a key. Abbie on the other hand was given full access, not only keys, but security codes, routes of all the secret passageways, and a safe room she constructed all on her own. He allowed her into his deepest depths, letting her uproot and redecorate as she pleased. She controlled the space. And now she wanted to move. He stepped closer to her no longer afraid to let her see how her words were affecting him.      

“Please.” It comes out of his mouth as a long breath of a word. His burgeoning tears having stolen every ounce of bass from his voice. “I am begging you…do not…leave me.” He pleads, choking out the words, unable to stop a few tears from falling from his eyes. If there was any distance between them at all she wouldn’t have heard him, but he’d backed her up against the vanity and positioned himself mere inches from her face. If she was going, he wasn’t going to allow it from a safe distance, she would be close enough to hear his heart break when she left.”   Her eyes swelled with tears as she opened her mouth to reply, but her hesitation encourages him. His hands are at her waist, and the next moment his lips are swallowing hers. A noise somewhere between a sob and a moan escapes her mouth as she drops her head in resistance. He isn’t deterred, immediately bending his back and dipping his head to take her lips from underneath, sucking them like God made them for him instead of her, she’s weakened enough to raise her head again, ignoring the voice in her mind begging her not to. Then she’s the one who’s seeking, who’s tasting his lips and clinging to his chest. He lets his hands and body do all of the talking, words lead to reason, and her reason is what’s pulling her away. He needed her to rely upon passion, to follow her heart, and forsake her head. He couldn’t tear himself away from her tender kisses, tongues brushed against each other, soft hums trickled from their swollen lips, and soon her feet were dangling from the basin she’d been standing in front of. He was unrelenting, the moment she turned for air, his lips were searing down her neck, nipping and lapping at her moist flesh.

“He could wake up.” She breathed.

“Not a chance.” He said pulling her shirt up to release her bra. He pressed forward, but carefully, she wanted this, possibly as much as he did, but he couldn’t push her too far too quickly.

Abbie couldn’t escape the tingly ache between her legs, she needed something to relieve it, she needed _him_ to relieve it. She could feel it, the moisture, cooling as it left her insides and slipped down her thighs without any panties to bar it from doing so. _I’m forgetting something._ She thought. _Something I was supposed to rememb—OH MY GOD!_ She locked her hands around the back of his neck as his mouth enveloped her taut nipple _._ Her mind blanked, whatever it was, it was lost.

“I miss this.” He mumbled pulling away from her breast to reclaim her lips. His fingertips slipped inside of her pajama bottoms, slowly pushing down towards her… _Oh dear God,_ he thought feeling his knees buckle against her wetness.

“Have mercy.” He prayed, relaxing against her waiting for his strength to return, his head bowed in the space between her shoulder and neck as his finger slid through her middle then back out to massage her little pebble. Abbie held her breath willing herself to remain silent, but when his lips found hers as his wet fingers stroked her clit she relinquished the tiniest whimper into his mouth. He had to free himself from the confines of his trousers, he simply couldn’t take it one moment longer. But would it be too much, too soon? Was she ready? Their kisses grew fervent, each one desperate to feel and taste the other. He felt her fingers tighten around his waist, nails gripping him through his shirt, heavy breaths freeing themselves from her containment, one right after another…she was hungry for it, and he was starved. He pulled his tongue from her mouth just long enough to tell her how wet she was.

“Fuck Abbie.” He croaked. “You’re so wet.” He whispered. Her lips parted as she grabbed at his wrist with the intention of pulling his hand out of her pants, remembering, although briefly, why this couldn’t happen. But by the time her fingers wrapped around his wrist all she could manage to do was hold it in place while his fingers worked their magic. He wanted to taste it…lick it a little and suck on it like he always did, but the throbbing stiffness in his trousers had other plans.   Abbie finally gathered enough strength to begin coming to her senses. She gripped his wrist with both hands, and pulled it from her pants.

“Ichabod.” She panted wildly. “Can’t, we can’t.” She added, waiting for the room to stop spinning around her. _Jesus please give me strength._   

“Ichabod?” He said curiously, donning a sly smile, and slightly lifting a brow, moments ago he was Crane. He leaned forward softly suckling her lips, and she couldn’t find the resolve to not kiss him back. His fingers found their way back inside of her pants while he returned his mouth to her breast, making use of everything he had, she was mere seconds away from exploding under his ambidextrous attentions. Ichabod released her, and quickly unbuttoned his pants just enough to free himself from his horribly constricted boxers. He reached for her, but her hands pressed against his chest to keep him at bay.

“Abbie.”

“Ichabod, we can’t, we can’t. I mean it. This will only make it harder…and I haven’t taken a birth control pill in days.” She blurted, thinking that it would surely be the end of the discussion. Ichabod stared at her blankly for a few seconds, and then leaned in and resumed kissing her.

Abbie pulled back. “Okay, so clearly you’re not understanding what I just said.”  

“I heard you. I simply fail to see how that matters. I love you.” He sighed weaving his fingers through the hairs on the nape of her neck. “I would be honored for you to bear our child.”

Abbie pushed his arms off of her. “Except we’ve decided to part ways to allow you time to develop a relationship with your son, so I can’t think of a worse time for us to have a baby.”

“—No you have decided, you have made all of these decisions, none of which have I agreed to, and I will not…you may ask anything of me, but do not ask me to give you up, I simply cannot.” He confessed, wrapping his arms around her.  

_Why does he have to be so sweet, and loving, and how did he get such sexy ass eyes and lashes? I mean damn why can’t he be just a regular guy who I could take or leave, why does he have to kiss me this way?_ She thought meeting his lips with lustful intentions. _Why does it have to feel so perfect when he holds me in his arms?_ He leaned forward to hold her closer and his hardened flesh press into her abdomen.

_And why in the fuck is his dick so big? And where the hell did he learn how to work it like that. Hmm maybe I’m tripping, he son will probably be okay even if he can’t live with him fulltime. Shit I turned out okay._ But then she realized, the circumstances were extraordinarily different, Jeremy’s situation wasn’t like other kids. Not to mention Ichabod was all over her, and she couldn’t trust her short circuited brain. He made everything sound right just by saying it, and feel right by doing it, but that didn’t mean it was. She didn’t know how she got here, how she became this woman unable to rein in her desire for a man, but here she was, and the man standing between her thighs was controlling every part of her.

“I just want you to be happy, you know that.” She said, laying errant kisses on his face, tilting her head back allowing easier access as he nibbled her neck. Abbie’s mind was reeling, she tried briefly to make sense of where she was in her cycle, she could have sworn that she was close to or overlapping her week off anyways she was surprised she wasn’t bleeding from the drop in hormones already, but she couldn’t make head or tails of it in light of everything that had occurred.    

“I don’t want to get pregnant.” She whispered, kissing his lips. He looked down at her and could see that she was genuinely worried, and he understood her reasoning completely, but still it hurt him more than he thought it would. Her not wanting to have his child, old wounds started to reopen, and he silently struggled to mend them again.

He rubbed his hands across her back, as he kissed the skin just in front of her ear. “Perhaps you will not, I can remove myself before it comes to that.” He muttered, before finding her mouth again, his tongue curled beneath her upper lip. When she didn’t reply he offered an alternative. “Apple I want you.” He breathed. “I need you, simply allow me to insert the tip so that I might feel you. If you find it unfavorable, at any time, I will withdraw immediately.”

_No he isn’t trying to ‘just the tip’ me, the fucking nerve._ She thought. This was a no brainer, _ABSOLUTELY NOT_ , she concluded, but somehow with him pressed so firmly against her, touching her as he was, she couldn’t find the words. _Maybe he could just put the tip in, as long as he takes it out before he comes—Wait a minute! Wake the fuck Abbie, don’t be stupid, this is game. He knows good and damn well if he puts any part of that thing in me, there is no way in hell I’ll let him take it out._ Even the feel of it pressing against her stomach was taking over her life. He lifted her hand, going in for the kill.

“Simply touch it Abbie, I want to feel you touch it.” He pleaded. _Say no! Don’t do it girl, don’t do—_ before she could stop herself her fingers were curled around his thick length— _Oh God it feels so fucking hard, and so freaking perfect, I already know how good it’ll feel on the inside._ Ichabod opened his mouth gasping for air which he swallowed in gulps to keep from moaning out. _I just want to make love to him one last time, would that be so bad, he could pull out. Aw look at him, he’s so beautiful, he deserves this. I deserve this._

_If I do this correctly she’ll forget all about leaving, and this, is one thing I always do correctly._ “You will have full control Apple, just the tip I promise.” He said softly dragging his lips over hers. “But if you wish me to hit the bottom of it,” He added lowering his voice. “You need only ask and I shall do that too.”

Abbie couldn’t breathe. Just thinking of him bottoming out inside of her, caused her to lose all composure. She knew a few languages in addition to English. French and Spanish, she’d even studied some Mandarin though she wasn’t quite fluent, but when she climaxed with him buried completely inside of her, no one could convince her that she wasn’t speaking German, Italian, Swahili, in tongues, and everything else. That feeling was one of her favorite things, and he knew that, that’s why he said it. He was seducing her, he wanted to fuck so they didn’t have to fight, and even though she wanted that as much as he did someone had to be the bigger person. In the morning they would wake to the same problems. It was only when she was so close to giving in, so incredibly close to letting it all go, that she let herself really imagine the repercussions. A baby, born to a father who would have no time to spend with it if Jeremy got the attention he needed. She needed to stop this, now, there could have been an egg, even if it wasn’t likely, she couldn’t take the risk. 

It was like a lightning bolt went through her, Abbie jumped off of the counter pulling her pants up, and her shirt down. Panic ripped through every inch of Ichabod’s body, everything had been going smoothly. They needed this, he needed to connect with her, to talk to her in the one language they shared where absolutely nothing was ever miscommunicated, making love had always been their failsafe.

“Abbie?” He stated confused, grabbing her as she turned to go, quickly hopping in front of the door.

That when he realized, she wasn’t going to change her mind. She wanted out of the bathroom, that much he could tell, and he would never hold her someplace she no longer wished to be. She stood across from him with her arms folded in front, looking away, as he reluctantly zipped his pants up. He stared at her for a minute or so, waiting for her to say something, wishing she would change her mind. He’d cried, he’d pleaded, and begged, but in spite of it all, she was still determined to follow through with this. He could see it in her face. A heavy sigh broke free from him. Finally, he stepped aside to allow her access to the door, but he fell weak and closed it as soon as she’d pulled it open.

“Are you certain about this?” His voice sounded like it had been plied with gravel. She unfolded her arms and gazed up at him without so much as a blink.

“Yes.” She answered in a quiet breath. He closed his eyes at the sting of her confirmation, but pressed on. “This is the second time we have been here in the matter of weeks. You fight for everything that’s important to you so vehemently, you never surrender, you never give up on anything… anything except our love. You rescued my son from a realm no being has ever escaped from, but this is too much? The same as when Katrina first returned, you were ready to give up then, were you not.”

“I wasn’t giving up, I didn’t want to imprison you. I wanted you to have a choice.”

His voice grew louder than it probably should have, but he couldn’t help it. “I chose.” He growled pressing the door. “It was always you, without fail, every single time Abbie.”

“Bullshit.” She replied much to his surprise. “You do what you think is right every time, without fail, when you decided to go after Katrina even though you envisioned your own death, when you had already decided to go after Jeremy without even speaking to me about it. When you left me on pause for _six_ months after Katrina died, because _you_ thought it was best. You. Do. What. You think is right, do not liken me to a coward for doing the same.”

“I never called you a coward, how could I, it has become increasingly clear that the great Abbie Mills is fearless. She is unafraid of everything…even losing me.”

“I don’t understand what you want from me, I am trying to love you the best way I know how, part of that entails me loving your son like he’s my own, and I would want my own child to feel safe, at any cost.” She wept.

“No, you’re quitting, I want you to _fight_ for us Abbie! Fight for me!”

“I don’t know how to fight this fight! She said through quiet intensity. “There are no good guys, and bad guys in this, you’re asking me to fight a fight that we both know I can’t win. I am telling you we _will lose_ , that little boy in there _will lose_ …so I’m bowing out.”

“So you’ve said.” She reaches for the door and he offers her one final word. “Before you walk out of that door…know what you’re doing. I would never leave you, not for anything.”

“I know.” She softly cries as she exits the room.

He didn’t come out of the bathroom that night. Abbie curled up on the couch, and just as Jeremy had done hours before, cried herself to sleep.  

The next morning Ichabod emerged from the bathroom with eyes nearly as red and swollen as hers. Jeremy woke soon after, and they both put on a brave front for his sake. Ichabod lost count of how many times he had to talk himself out of asking her to reconsider. He already had, and she’d made her decision. So they’d sat there pushing their in room breakfast around their plates while Jeremy ate heartily. Abbie had just finished dressing when she came in to find Ichabod telling Jeremy about how they’d be travelling home. After seeing pictures he seemed to have a good understanding of it, but he was still a little apprehensive.

“I shall be right at your side, it will all be well.” Ichabod stated, trying to reassure him.

“Will Miss Abbie be on the plane?” He asked.

“Yes.” Ichabod replied.

“May I sit with her as well?” He asked looking between them. Ichabod looked to Abbie rather than answering.

“I would love to sit next to you! That way you and I can play games on the way home, would you like that?

“Yes Miss Abbie, very much. Will we play rock, paper, scissors?”

“Mayyybe.” She sang, teasing. “Of course we’re going to play rock, paper, scissors, you beat me last time, so I’m coming for you this time around.”

 

“He’s bonded with you.” Ichabod stated when Jeremy went to the restroom.

“We… yes. But you have to remember that I look an awful lot like the woman he saw as his mother. That made it easier.” She stated.

“He asked if we would all live with one another, you, me, Katrina, and him.”

“Oh.” She said finding a seat in one of the chairs.

“Fear not I informed him that we would not, upon our arrival in Sleepy Hollow, I will make my way to the cabin.”

“I told you earlier that I could crash at Frank’s with Jenny for a few weeks, that will give you some time to find a place so you’re not so far from everything.”

“That is unnecessary. The cabin shall do nicely for a while if you hold no objection to us staying there.” He questioned.

“No, that’s fine with me.” She replied, running her fingers along the arm of the chair.

“It shall be suitable until I have found a home. When I…informed him that he would not reside with you, he asked if he could still see you.” He stated hesitantly.

“You told him yes right?”

“I was uncertain _what_ to tell him Abigail. I did not know if you wanted anything to do with…”

“—I would never do that to a child. I told you I love him, I meant that. He’s a part of you. If nothing else, tell me you understand that.” The way that this was happening wasn’t sitting right with Abbie. She loved him, that was her whole purpose for letting him go, but he didn’t seem to see it that way.

Ichabod looked at her through a strained expression. “I find myself understanding less and less these days.”

The morning passed slower than most. She chatted with Jeremy, and pretended to be interested in a few shows on TV. She felt like a fool for thinking that she and Ichabod could somehow remain friends through all of this. For imagining that they would be different from some of the other couples she knew, and find a way to end things amicably. When she looked at him, he turned away, and that was so much better that when he actually met her gaze. He eyes cut through her like blades, like she wasn’t her, and he wasn’t him, like she betrayed him and hadn’t risked her life to bring his son home just the day before. She wouldn’t throw it in his face, he knew what she’d been through…and still. Abbie needing a break from it all decided that she was going out for a walk, and Jeremy was on his feet in a flash asking if he could come along.

“Sure.” She smiled. “That’s actually a good idea, there’s a clothing store downstairs, we could pick you up some shoes.” She added seeing him dressed in the khaki shorts, and polo Stewart sent up, but still donning his two century old shoes. “Only, I don’t have my wallet with me.” She stated looking at Ichabod. He took her meaning and stood to offer her his wallet. He watched the light kiss her skin as she reached inside removing three or four bills. Just as she handed it back to him Jeremy piped up.

“Are you not joining us father?” Ichabod looked at Abbie, eyes questioning if it would be okay.

“I would love that.” She said. She knew that they couldn’t be friends right away, but she hoped that eventually they could, she needed it…she needed him. But the way they were letting go of each other, the way he was treating her for making a decision that she felt was right was setting the precedence for how their future interactions were going to go. They had shared too many good times, to end on a bad note. This couldn’t be a bad taste in her mouth, or something she looked back upon with regret, it would kill her.

“I suppose I could benefit from stretching my legs.” He answered. They bumped into Stewart downstairs, and Ichabod thanked him profusely for what he had done for Abbie and his son, he tried to pay for the room, and clothes but Stewart refused.

“This woman of yours has the voice of an angel.” He said. “I don’t doubt for a second that she’s going to earn every penny and then some with her performance tonight. You just have to bring her back here sometime for an encore, alright.” Ichabod smiled the most hapless, broken excuse for a smile that Abbie had ever seen, the kind that’s brave at the beginning, but caves under the pressure of pretending.

“I shall do my very best.” He stated.

They stopped and bought Jeremy’s shoes, he chose two pair of Sperry’s, one being dark blue sneakers, and the other a pair of leather slip-ons similar to the ones his father wore. Abbie picked out a couple of outfits for him to hold him over for a bit. They stopped and toured Fort Mackinac, Ichabod stood remembering when they planned upon moving the fort to the location it now held. This was one of things that always unsettled him, what were blueprints during his time, was now a museum in this day and age. They had some time to kill afterwards so they did a little shopping, Ichabod asked Abbie at every turn if she wanted or needed anything. She always refused until they passed the grocery store and she went in to find conditioner and a comb.

“Thank you.” She said as they left the market. She didn’t know why, her check was deposited into the checking account the same as his, but she said it anyway.

“You’re most welcome.” He replied warmly staring over at her. Jeremy bobbed along between them holding onto one of each of their hands. “Abbie…”

“Yes?”

_You never need to thank me for purchasing you anything, I feel fortunate to be the one who you allow to do those things. I would buy you anything that I could afford, and if I could not afford it, I would do whatever I needed to so that I could. I love you, please, please do not leave me._

“What is it?” She asked, waiting.

“Are you hungry?” He asked defeated, too afraid to throw himself out there again.

“A little, you?” She responds.

He feels the tightening of his belly. “Gut-foundered.” Things seemed normal at lunch, perfect really. The all ate and laughed with one another, having such a good time that Abbie barely noticed it was nearing the time for her rehearsal.   

After lunch they opted to take a horse drawn carriage rather than walk back to the hotel. Ichabod took her hand as she exited the carriage and kept hold of it until they reached the room. She didn’t pull it away, it felt nice to hold onto him. He pulled her into the bedroom as Jeremy distracted himself with his toy car.

“I had a wonderful day.” She said looking up through curly lashes. Ichabod sighed. _Here goes everything._

“As did I.” _Good God man have you any self respect? Have you not been emasculated enough, or will you not be pleased until she holds what is left of your cock and balls…but what if she’s changed her mind. I’m happy with her._ “We could have this, it could be this way.” He said against his better judgment. “You, me, Jeremy, and Delton.”

“Ichabod,” Abbie said shaking her head, “You are already going to have your hands full enough, without taking on an additional child, what you’re talking about is managing two families. There is no way.”

“One family.” He replied holding up his finger. She started to speak but he cut her off. “Before you answer, listen.” He stated placing a hand to her hip. “I understand that there will be times when I will be consumed more or less making up for lost time with Jeremy, but that doesn’t mean that I cannot be the husband and father that you and Delton deserve.”

“Ichabod, if you’re present with us, Jeremy will go to sleep without you there and when he wakes, you’ll be absent then too, you’ll feel guilty because of that and you will spend even more time trying to make up for it…meanwhile.”

“I know what you think…Delton will be neglected, but Abbie it does not have to be that way.”

“You’re right, and it won’t, please don’t do this, we had a perfect day.” She stated tearing up. “This isn’t about me, I don’t want you running yourself into the ground trying to make everyone happy, and never really succeeding. No one will be happy that way, not even you.” She said. He took her hands in his.

“The only thing that my happiness requires is you.”   His eyes softened as his brows raised up and drew in around the bottom tips. She could see the tears in his eyes, but knew as unhappy as he was now, it would get worse if she didn’t remove herself from the relationship.

‘I’m sorry.” She cried, feeling water seep from the edges of her eyelids. His shoulders hunched for a moment before they straightened markedly. He raised his head high, and shook off the tears in his eyes.

“Ichabod…”

“No.” He said licking his lips. “I heard you. I will not bother you again.” He started to walk out of the room, but turned around suddenly and reached into his jacket pocket. “I nearly forgot.” He clutching a small black box in his hands. “I thought that these would make a stunning addition to the gown you chose for the evening.”

Abbie shook her head. “I can’t take that, I can’t.” Before she could finish protesting he’d placed the box in her hands and wrapped his hand around hers.

“Abbie I bought them for you, I have no use for them, please…I will arrange for a carriage to meet us outside to carry us to the airport at 8 o’clock, will that give you sufficient time after your performance?”

“Yes. Are you not coming?” She asked, a little disappointed, but suddenly understanding.

“I cannot, Abbie.” He said as if he were going to say more but changed his mind. He closed his eyes, pressed his lips to her forehead, and walked out of the room. That evening he didn’t come to her set, she didn’t blame him. She sang the blues in a way that only someone who had lost love could, the crowd loved it, but she would have given anything to not have quite so much soul and heart in her voice that night. On the way home they both spoke to Jeremy, but rarely to each other. Abbie reminded him that Jeremy would need vaccinations, that he would be susceptible to certain illnesses until he had them. She offered to schedule his appointments, as she done for him and Katrina, but he refused.

“I shall attend to it.” He answered.

There were tears of joy abound the moment they walked into the door. Jenny wrapped her arms around her sister and finally let herself fall apart. She’d been strong this whole time, taking care of everything and everyone, essentially _being_ Abbie. It was harder than she thought it would be. For the first time in her life she had to be the responsible one, the older one, she had to remember to eat a well-balanced meal, wash her own laundry, and take her birth control pill at the exact same time every night, which Abbie insisted be the exact time that she took hers that way she wouldn’t forget to text her a reminder. When she spent time with Delton, she had to remind him not to attempt any flips or somersaults at the trampoline house, whereas normally she would have done them with him. So when Abbie first walked through the door, Jenny looked at her through different eyes, she always loved her more than anything, but she appreciated her a little more too, and the way she hugged her let her know.   She, Irving, and Katrina had decorated the living room with streamers, welcome home banners, and balloons, but it became clear relatively quickly that there wouldn’t be any celebration.

“What’s going on?” Jenny had asked hearing Ichabod direct Katrina to gather her things within ten minutes of being there. She had barely had a chance to properly greet Jeremy, but she did as he asked. Abbie filled Jenny in on what had happened, and even though her sister didn’t understand her decision, she supported her. Her main concern was Abbie’s happiness, only thing is she had never seen her as happy as when she was with Ichabod. Still she was far too excited that she was alive to be angry, or disappointed with her about anything.

“Crane, you don’t have to do this tonight, it’s late.” Abbie stated.

“No time like the present,” He’d replied waltzing by her. “We shall be out of your way within the hour.” He stated before moving up the stairs. Everything after that seemed to happen in a blur, she’d hugged Jeremy and told him he could come and see her anytime he wanted, as long as his parents said it was okay. Katrina hugged her like she actually meant it.

“Thank you Abigail, Ichabod has told me what you have done for our Jeremy, for our family. Thank you.” She beamed, hugging her again. Abbie stood there not bothering to link her arms around Katrina, she was far too tired to be fake right now, and she still didn’t trust her. But at least Katrina had hugged her. Ichabod only nodded, and told her that he would come for the rest of his belongings at his earliest convenience. It was much colder that she felt she deserved considering everything they had been through…but he had ways of protecting himself, same as she did. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to hug her, rather that he knew had he attempted to touch or even speak to her for a prolonged length of time, he surely would have been reduced to tears right in front of his son.

There’d been was something gnawing at Abbie the entire way home. The realization that when a child needs you, you did whatever you have to do to help them, no matter what the cost. This is what she did for Jeremy, why hadn’t she done the same for Delton? Within a half hour of Ichabod leaving she had pulled into the orphanage. Tennis shoes, joggers, t-shirt all thrown chaotically across her body. The main hall was dark but she could see a faint light coming from the back of the office. She circled the building until she came to the office window, though she was unable to see inside she raised her hand and tapped against the pane. After a moment she tapped again, louder and longer this time. She heard what she presumed was a chair slide across the floor, shortly after that, the window lifted and out popped sister Corra’s head.

“Abigail?”

“Yes ma’am, I need to talk to you.”

After letting her in Sister Corra hugged her and told her how fearsomely she and the other sisters had been praying for her. Jenny had informed them that a very dangerous work related mission was the reason for her absence last week. She seemed genuinely happy to see her, but it wore off pretty quickly.

“Have you any idea the hour, what are you doing wandering about the bushes this time of night?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about. I just got home and…I remember you said that there was no perfect time to have or adopt a child, and after the week I’ve had, I realize that you were a hundred percent right. There’s always going to be something, it’s never just going to be easy, my life is never going to reach a point where everything’s wonderful and I can sit in my backyard sipping wine. It’s never going to be perfect…I understand that now. But it’s okay because it’s enough… _he’s_ enough. And I don’t want him to go one more single night without knowing that. Without knowing that I love him, and I want him to be my son, and if he still wants me to be his mom, I won’t make him wait for that for anything. So that’s why I’m standing in the bushes at 1:30 in the morning, because when I thought I might not make it home, every single reason I had before for not adopting him seemed foolish.”

The old woman bent her lips up into a smile, closed mouth but for Sister Corra, that was a big deal. “I have to say I hoped you would come around, he loves you and Ichabod so much dear.”

“It’s just me.” Abbie said.

“Just you?” The sister asked curiously, frowning.

“Yes.” Abbie replied. The stood there quietly for a moment, Abbie offering no more, Sister Corra not asking, but surely wanting to know what happened.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I assure you, I can do it. I am enough, and I wouldn’t be standing here if I thought for even a second that I might not be able to offer him everything he deserves…and”

“—It’s okay. I know can do it sweetie, you don’t have to convince me.” Corra said. Abbie swallowed and cleared her throat, examining the woman through glassy eyes.

“Well.” The sister said taking her glasses off and wiping them on a small cloth in her hand. “When do you want to take him home?”

Abbie yelped, jumping to hug Sister Corra, and kiss her on the cheek. “Tonight! I wanna take him home this very minute.

“Alright, alright.” She smiled and laughed. “But quietly, I have a reputation around these parts, I’m strict, by the book, the others call me a hard ass behind my back and I can’t have my image tarnished.”

A few minutes later Abbie crept back towards Delton’s room. She woke him gently, sitting at the edge of his bed rubbing his shoulder until his eyes slowly tugged open, only to half shut before flying wide.

“Miss Abbie!” He yelled, quickly sitting up and throwing his arms around her shoulders.

“Hi sweetie.” She crooned, wrapping her arms around him.

“I missed you, I missed you so much.” The boy smiled.

“I can guarantee you that I missed you more.” She said pulling back to look him in the eyes. I have something very important I want to ask you. You don’t have to answer tonight but I want you to think about it okay.”

“Yes ma’am.” He replied, gazing up at her questioningly.

Abbie took her time reminding him how important he was to her, and how much she loved him. When she asked him if he would like to come to live with her he stood up and started jumping on his bed.

“Yes! Yes! I can’t wait to.” He yelled.

“—Shhh D.” Abbie whispered, laughing. “It’s really late, you’ll wake everyone.”

“Oh.” He said quietly sitting down on his bed laughing. “Sorry. I would love to live with you.” He tried whispering, but it sounded more like a quiet yell. “Is Mr. I here too?” He asked, looking around. She explained to him that he’d just be living with her, and though she was sure he would see Mr. I sometime, she couldn’t say when that would be. He seemed confused by it, but nonetheless was excited to be going home with her. She smiled glancing back at his droopy eyes through the rear-view mirror on the way home, and knew she’d made the right decision. In the small break that she’d had after the war was over and Moloch was dead, she’d considered starting the FBI program. The training lasted twenty weeks and while she’d been sure Ichabod would have moved had she asked, she wouldn’t have wanted him to uproot his life, he could have stayed. Hopefully she would have been deployed to a nearby location, and they could have worked things out from there. Everyone and everything in her life could have waited, everything except the little boy in the back seat. She couldn’t do twenty weeks away from him, after this past week she realized that she couldn’t do one. There was a part of her that still wanted it, to join the FBI, it had been her dream. She couldn’t help but think that maybe one day when things were settled, and Delton was secure he might be able to spend some time with Jenny while she chased that dream down, but not right now. By the time she pulled into the driveway Delton was sleeping. She sat in the car for a moment wondering if she should carry him, as Ichabod would have done, or just wake him so he could walk. In the end she chose the latter, there were entirely too many steps for her to lug him upstairs. She set him up in Jenny’s room, pulling the blanket up over his chest.

“I love you D, I’m so happy you’re here.” She whispered.

“I’m happy to…” He replied, his eyes opening and closing randomly. “Miss Abbie?”

“Yes?”

“When you adopt me, I’ll be your son right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll be my mom?” He smiled lazily.

“That’s right.”

“So then, I’ll have to call you mom?” He asked hesitantly. Abbie took a deep breath.

“No.” She whispered. “I want you to call me whatever makes you feel comfortable, if you want to call me Miss Abbie that’s fine sweetie…if there’s a time that you want to call me mom, that’s fine too. No matter what, I’ll be here for you.” She stated. Jeremy smiled without opening his eyes, causing Abbie to grin and press her lips to his forehead. “Goodnight D.” She whispered.

She was nearly to the door when she heard him, Abbie wasn’t really prepared for the way his words made her feel.   Nothing had changed, it was just a word, but it found its way into her heart and set up shop there.  

“Goodnight mom.” He whispered.

She shut off the light, and made her way to her bedroom a smile still blanketing her face. She saw the familiar figure lying in her bed as soon as she entered the room. She pulled her joggers off and lifted her shirt to remove her bra.

“Oh my God you’re warm.” She said as she slid under the blanket.

“And you’re freezing.” Jenny called over her shoulder.

“You didn’t have to stay.” Abbie stated curling an arm around her sister.

“I know…how’s D?” Jenny asked, knowing that’s where Abbie had run off to.

Abbie cracked a wide smile, and rested her chin on Jenny’s arm. “He’s in your bed. I picked him up for good this time.” Abbie informed her. Jenny turned and stared at her sister.

“What?!” She exclaimed.

“He shouldn’t have to keep waiting for me to get my shit together.” She said quietly.

Jenny half laughed. “You were a teensy bit busy saving the world.”

Abbie sighed. “And now I’m not…where to now?” She said staring at the ceiling, every trace of her smile erased. Jenny fell back to her pillow and stared over at her sister.

“This stuff with Icky…Abbie, are you sure?” She asked.

“Yeah. I have to be, I told you about Jeremy’s situation. I don’t want him splitting time between Ichabod and Katrina, I want him to have everything he needs.”

“Is that how you feel about Macey? Jenny asked, and Abbie notices the glistening in her sister’s eyes. “Do you think I should step aside so she can have her family together again?”

Abbie sat up in the bed, leaning her back against the headboard. “Jenny no.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I mean. Macey already had her family all together, they’re happier apart, that’s why they got divorced.”

Jenny smiled. “Tell that shit to Cynthia.”

“Don’t worry about her. He loves you. She’s probably just realizing that it’s really over, and like mentally glamorizing the good times or something, while washing over the bad ones, people do that shit.”

“And what are you going to do when you realize it’s really over?” Jenny mumbled, the corner of her mouth against the pillow.

Abbie groaned. “Jenny.”

Jenny sat up beside her. “Abbie I mean it. Maybe it’s easier for you to let him go right now because…because he loves you _so_ much, but what you’re doing is opening the door for his feelings to change, for that love to change. As we speak he’s setting up house with Katrina, are you _sure_ you want to do this.”

Abbie was silent a long while just thinking about everything that happened. She didn’t want to talk about this, she wasn’t ready. Her mind was scattered, and even her physical body felt somehow foreign right now, like she was hovering just outside of herself instead really being in her skin. She was numb, and considering the alternative, it was probably best. But she knew her sister wasn’t going to let this go, it was a life altering decision, and she wanted to make sure she’d thought it through.

“Jenny.” She spoke softly. “He would never want to hurt me…but…what if he really wanted this?” A few tears slid from her eyes, and fell to her pillow. Jenny was immediately sorry she’d said anything hearing the pain in her sister’s voice. She could barely speak. “What if he wanted this chance to be with the family that was taken from him? I couldn’t…not let him have that, I love him _too_ much.” Abbie wept.

Jenny gently stroked her sister’s arm. “I hear what you’re saying, and I’m sure he does want lots of time with Jeremy, but what if he wanted you too, Abbie, I’m sure he does.”

“He doesn’t.” She cried.

“What, why would you think that.” Jenny asked sitting up.

She hadn’t been lying, she wanted everyone to be happy, Jeremy, and especially Ichabod, so she pushed him away. She didn’t want him to fail at being a father and growing close to his son, so she pushed him away. She didn’t want him to realize down the road, that she was costing him precious, irreplaceable, moments with his son and decide she wasn't worth the price after all…so she pushed him away. But there was a part of her, a small part she kept locked away from everything else that hoped he would have refused to leave. He didn’t.

“I don’t think it Jenny, I know.” She croaked.

“I don’t understand how.” Jenny asked, sitting up on her elbow.

“Because he isn’t here.” She whimpered, completely breaking down. Jenny didn’t know what to do, she had never seen her sister so broken. She knew exactly what she meant without Abbie needing to offer further information. They had discussed the subject at length, in fact it was Abbie who told her, when it comes to love people usually wind up where they want to be. If he wanted to be here, he would. In this instance she didn’t agree, but Abbie couldn’t hear that right now, she couldn’t hear anything. Jenny curled around her sister, rubbing her hair, and listening to the sound of the storm raging outside.

“It’s gonna be okay Bells, it’s gonna be fine.” She breathed.

Ichabod pulled onto the familiar block, and parked alongside the road. Jeremy had fallen asleep an hour or so before, he waited a half hour before putting on his shoes.

“Where in the heavens are you off to Ichabod, the forecast has predicted rainstorms.” She’d said watching him slip into his coat.

“I am aware, worry not Katrina.” He’d stated heading towards the door. He felt her hand slip around his arm.

“Ichabod, Abigail has done what she has done so that we might have the opportunity to have the family that was stolen away from us. Please remember that. I understand that you are grieved, but if you seek comfort…” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Allow it to be my hand that provides it.”

He took her by the hand and turned around to face her. “Katrina. I’m afraid that there is no comfort for the burden I carry. You should rest, Jeremy will require our attention in the morrow. I will be here when you wake.” He added before walking out of the door.      

He looked up at the house—his home, or at least the one he had a few days ago. The rooms were as dark as the sky above him, and he wondered if she was sleeping already. He wondered how she could sleep at all. He lay back in the seat watching the house sifting through his memory until he came to the one containing the last time they’d slept in the bed together. It was the night he and Katrina had discovered Jeremy’s empty grave. The day had taken everything out of both of them, by the time he came out of the shower she was in and out of slumber. He spooned his naked body around her shirted one and held on to her with all that he had, it was the only way he could manage to hold her after the Horseman had taken her that terrible night. It was too tight he knew, but she didn’t complain. His beautiful curse of a memory allowed him to go back to that very night, the way her soft flesh felt pressed against his warm skin, the coolness of her hand as he wrapped his around it and held it to her belly. The sweet smelling coconut scent of her hair as he stretched over it to place a goodnight kiss upon her cheek, and that sound she made when his lips touched her skin, that half hum, half sigh sound she only made when she was completely content. He wondered then if she had any idea what that sound had come to mean to him, he knew now that she didn’t. He’d talked to her some that night, only after he was certain that sleep had taken her far, far away.   He told her that he had to try to save his son. He promised that he would do everything in his power to return, he asked not to hate him if he couldn’t.

The rain picked up, running down, and clouding over the car window, he told himself that it was the reason his vision was blurred…he almost believed it.

 

* * *

 

Four weeks ago she might have felt different, but now that she’d seen things in their true dimension, the way they really were it was impossible to go back to the way she viewed them before. Before they’d discovered Katrina was alive, and poor Jeremy was trapped, before she gave up her happily ever after so Ichabod and his son could have a chance at theirs. Four weeks ago had she been where she was now, sitting in her doctor’s office confounded as all hell as he told her she was pregnant, she would have had something else to say besides,

“With infection?”

“Uh, no.” He replied peeking over his iPad. “With a baby.”

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 


	22. Babylon (Are You Hating Yourself, Do You Really Hate Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey All!!! I know this is super, super, duper late, but's its been a hectic few months. I do have through to Chapter 25 written to make up for it though. I just need to edit before posting so there shouldn't be a long wait in between the next few chapters. In fact this chapter ends somewhat weirdly but the next one will be up tonight or tomorrow. Hope life is treating all of you well, and I hope you don't have too much trouble getting back into this story. I had this written before we got a more definitive time line regarding when their father left, and thus their age difference. I think I've been envisioning them as stair step kids, so I left it that way. Please forgive any grammatical errors, I will come back in and fix them. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!!!

 

 

It’s funny sometimes to look back over the events that shape our lives. Something happens, whether to us or to those around us, and it causes a change. It causes _us_ to change. Sometimes it’s dramatic, other times its more subtle, almost too nuanced to spot, like a shadow on a painting you only see when you tilt your head just so.  It’s almost as if there’s a break, and we’re left with a before and after whatever tiny catastrophe or miracle altered us.  After a while we become so accustomed to our new selves, our freshly armored, masked, hopefully a little less destructible selves that it becomes difficult to remember when we were ever any different. But we were, and somewhere along the outer edges of our memory lies the seconds, the minutes, the hours, that molded our souls and crafted our shells. How do we become, who, we become? When Abbie was five, her life was completely mapped out. No difficult decisions to be made, should I do this or that, when she grew up, she was going to be a singer, she knew it, her family knew it, and she made it a point to tell those around her every day. It was her goal. But in the year she turned six, her world grew a little, smaller not bigger, and those hopes and dreams were dashed and changed. Much like the painting it’s hard to decide whether we actually change or if we simply start to see more of ourselves, to know more of ourselves.

Abbie sat on a cream rug in a large open spaced living room, ripe with oversized plants. The leaves of an ivy potted in a corner had been stretched and pinned along the top of the walls. A picture of Martin Luther King Jr. hung above the fire place, photos of Malcolm X and Abraham Lincoln hung beside it. Other pieces of art decorating the room had long captivated Abbie. An artwork of a brown skinned Jesus seated at a table next to his disciples, and a painting of slaves working in a cotton field with angels floating in a blue cloudless sky above them. What would become her favorite was a painting of a woman holding a lantern surrounded by a group of slaves, all of them looking to her. Grandma had told her before that the lady’s name was Harriet Tubman, and she was a hero who’d helped to free hundreds of slaves. Abbie had been instantly awed by it. From the moment her grandma told her the story, there was a little kernel of inspiration inside of her that made her feel like she wanted to the same thing, to help people. Now whenever they sat in the living room Abbie literally couldn’t take her eyes off of the painting, that was the reason Grandma had snatched her head for the third time in less than two minutes.

“Ouch!”

“Grace Abigail if you don’t hold this head still, your braids are going to be zig-zagged clear across your head.” She scolded through a momentary pause from braiding. “Is that what you would like, zig-zag braids?” An ironic tone lightened her warm voice.

“No ma’am.” Abbie lamented resting her head against the side of her grandmother’s leg.  She and Grandpa had been the only ones in the family who ever called her Grace, there was something about it that always made her feel good, that made her feel like being here was different than being anywhere else.

Grandma leaned forward. “Well then, keep still.”

“Yes ma’am.” She responded. “Grandma?”

“Yes baby?”

“When I grow up I’m going to be a singer, and I’m going to sing, and sing, and sing until I sound almost as pretty as you when you sing, and then everyone will love it, and be happy.

“Are you now?”

“Yes ma’am.” A toothless Abbie said turning around as Grandma finished her braid.

“Well that won’t be too hard, because Grandma thinks that you already sing prettier than she does, you know that.” She smiled tapping the tip of Abbie’s nose.

Abbie always went first. Grandma wanted her to show Jenny how a big girl gets her hair braided, sits up straight and doesn’t cry. But it never made a difference, Jenny cried every time, Grandma said it was because she was tender headed.

“Come on Jenny, it’s your turn.” Abbie called.

Jenny looked up from the Legos she was stretched out in front of with apprehension filling her eyes.

“Come sit down in front of Grandma, and let me fix your hair.” Grandma called.

Jenny’s bottom lip nudged forward, as she stood and scuffed over to the couch, the straps of her overalls clinking behind her as she went. She plunked down in front of Grandma like there was lead in her tummy.

“Jennifer Mills you have fallen out of every tree in the backyard, skinned your legs to high heaven, and never cried. But every time I comb this hair of yours…” Grandma shook her head with a sigh.

“It’s okay Jenny, don’t cry.” Abbie sat in front of her, and took her hand. It became a ritual of sorts, she would hold Jenny’s hand, and sing to her to keep her mind off of getting her hair done. Grandma’s long, thin, purposeful, fingers weren’t quite as gentle as Mama’s but they didn’t have a choice in the matter. After they finished getting their hair done the girls would sometimes go out back to play while Grandma whipped up a batch of her famous tea cakes. Some days they would sit and play in the living room closet, pretending it was a fort, while Grandma cooked and sang along to old records. Even after all these years her grandma’s voice was still the prettiest that Abbie had ever heard. Shortly after that, their daddy would get off of work and come to pick them up. But the last couple of weeks Daddy had been held over, and more and more they had to wait for Mama to get out of work.

Sometimes we see things when we’re young, impactful, life-bending types of things, only we don’t know it just then. That day when Mama got off of work and came to pick them up, they didn’t go right home as they usually did. She and Jenny sat in the backseat, as they drove the route to Daddy’s job.

“Yay! We’re visiting Daddy at work!” They shouted as they pulled up in front of the brick building. Only they didn’t stop, they circled around the building to the employee parking lot. When Abbie thought back on it now she realized her mother was looking for her father’s car, but back then she thought nothing of it. They drove around for a little while, before finally coming to a stop on a street across town. When they pulled to the side of the road Abbie remembered looking out of the window saying,

“Look Mama, that car looks just like Daddy’s.”

Well they never went home that night, Mama dropped them back off at Grandma’s, and that was around the time that everything started changing. Grandpa had already passed six months before, and Abbie didn’t know it yet but Grandma wouldn’t last the winter. Daddy would leave before the spring flowers had a chance to take root, and the summer that followed looked nothing like the one that came before it. This is when she learned how a world ended, and how a new one was born, but she couldn’t take the person she was in the old world into the new one. This idea of helping people would grow, and she spent more and more time staring at that old painting which now hung on their living room wall, and less time singing. In fact she only really bothered with a tune when Jenny or Mama requested. They needed her, the two of them. Mama saw things, things that frightened her so badly that there were whole days when she wouldn’t speak. Looking back on it now, Abbie couldn’t imagine what she must have been dealing with, losing her parents and husband in such a short time span, resisting demon after demon that Moloch sent to break her. It was no wonder she clung to them so furiously. But the tighter she held to them, the more Jenny started to become afraid of her. So Mama was scared of the monsters, Jenny was scared of Mama, and Abbie, didn’t have the luxury of being afraid of anything. Because she was six, and she was the oldest, and Mama wasn’t well so it was her job to hold them together. She talked to Grandma sometimes at night when she said her prayers. She was the only one she told that she didn’t want to sing anymore, that instead she was going to be like Miss Harriet Tubman, she was going to help people find their way through the dark.

She was fifteen before she looked back to those days and realized that her father wasn’t actually working late all of those nights. If she could have gone back to that time she would have crawled into the closet with the unsuspecting versions of she and Jenny, and given them a warning of the uncertain days ahead. She would have told them to hold on to each other no matter what, that things would get so bad that it would seem like they would never get good again, but they would. It wouldn’t be the same, we lose things and places that we can never quite get back to, and they would never again see their parents break into an impromptu dance in the middle of the kitchen on a winter’s day, or feel the wind swirling around them when their father held them high above his head on an empty beach. But none of it mattered, because it would get better, and one day, they would have dances and beaches of their own. These days she was less angry with her father, looking at how her life turned out why would she be. She had a life full of people she loved, good people who loved her back, what more can anyone really ask for. Was she disappointed that things couldn’t have been easier for some of the people she loved, namely mama and Jenny? Sure, but she was learning to forgive him. Ironically, with everything that happened the one person she was most disappointed in, and unable to forgive was herself…because she never saw it coming.

There was a reason she was as good at her job as she was. She had a feel for things, people, and situations. She studied them, the things they were able to live with, what they were willing to die for. She could construct the mind of a criminal out of bare bones. When a situation reached a boiling point she was almost never in the line of fire because she had a feel for when things started to go bad. There were exceptions of course, as she learned early on in dealing with Ichabod. Though it seemed easier, she found it inherently more difficult to read someone she knew so well. He was one of the few who could actually surprise her, and even with the craziness that had gone on, she rarely found herself caught off guard. She resented the term control freak, especially the way Jenny threw it at her, she preferred to think of it as managing variables and minimizing risks. She wasn’t the type to get caught in the rain without an umbrella, or wind up at the grocery store without her stack of coupons, and if she happened to fill in her eyebrows on any given day they would be symmetrical. Details mattered to her. Controlling small details helped her to reduce surprises, and with respect to her eyebrows at least made certain she didn’t _look_ surprised when she wasn’t. Needless to say she was an ‘Oh my God I’m pregnant’ type of girl, not an “Oh my fucking God, I’m pregnant type of girl’.  

Abbie’s jaw dropped as her eyes expanded upon the thin framed man in front of her. _He said pregnant, with a baby, one that’s inside of me…and will eventually want to come out from inside of me._ Her heart struck up a new, urgent, beat inside of her chest while her legs seemed to go numb as they dangled from the examination table. A sharp strain of panic coursed through her body, and for a moment she worries she’s going to be sick—again, this would have been the third time today. Though somehow even with the sickness she’d been feeling, and the fact that her period hadn’t come during her placebo week, she _never_ suspected this. Her hands tugged loose the first few buttons of her sweater as she suddenly developed a dislike for the way it felt against her skin.

“Abbie?” The doctor stepped forward, a quizzical glare covered his face. “Are you alright?” Abbie forced herself out of her head, which was right in the middle of a major shit-storm meltdown.

“I’m…uh…” She pushes her sleeves up trying to keep the sweater from touching as much of her skin as possible. Her eyes fixated on the calendar across from the table, as she attempted to get her bearings about her. She hastily sifted through dates, encounters, but none of it seemed plausible because she had consistently taken her pill. _No_. It simply didn’t add up, none of it, not any. There was clearly a mix-up, she couldn’t decide where it happened or how, but she would get it figured out.  

“Dr. Valdez, let me explain, I’m here because I’ve been nauseous, I’ve been throwing up, and fatigued. And I _think_ it’s because I had this _really_ nasty upper respiratory infection a little while back that must be hanging on. I think the stress of that is what’s throwing my cycle off, because I am on the pill, and I take it. Faithfully—every single day, at thee exact same time, so I cannnn…not be pregnant.” She informed him. This was the story she had concocted in her head, a nice simple story that explained away all of her symptoms in a way that didn’t require her diagnosing herself with a serious illness or disease. It made sense. Much more sense than being pregnant, but she could tell by the way her doctor was staring at her that he didn’t agree. She abruptly reaches for his IPad, causing him to quickly pull it back. Both of them exchange curious affronted gazes.

“I’m sorry, can I just take a look at that because maybe there was a mix-up with my chart, or maybe you’re reading something wrong, it happens. You could just be having one of those days where you’re accidently telling people their pregnant, when they’re not. I just want to double check.

“Abbie you’ve been my patient for years, this is your chart.” He stated briefly flipping the tablet so she could see. “And according to the quantitative blood analysis we performed, you are between four and five weeks pregnant.” He affirmed. Abbie felt as though a python had cinched around her chest and was squeezing the life out of her. “However if you would like a second opinion…”

“No, no.” Abbie cringed, she knew he was an excellent physician, and she had always trusted in his ability. She was just afraid, and looking for a way out of that fear.

Doctor Valdez sighed, and sat his tablet down, empathetic to her situation. “Abbie I understand that you’ve been using oral contraceptives, what has most probably occurred is the antibiotics that you were taking to clear up your infection reduced the effectiveness of your birth control pills, which caused you to ovulate and…well.”

“Ugh.” Abbie groaned slamming her eyes shut as she buried her face in her hands. She clasped her fists together holding them against her nose. “The antibiotics.” She said understanding what had occurred. A distant memory came to her, a woman with bright red hair and too much jewelry going over the precautions of taking the birth control pill. She could vaguely remember her saying that certain antibiotics could lessen their efficiency, she just hadn’t thought it was applicable to her because she never imagined trusting someone enough to have sex without a condom. Enter fucking Ichabod. He changed her, whole parts of her had vanished without her really taking notice, until now when she was faced with the consequences of becoming this new, less straitlaced, version of herself.

“Abbie,” her doctor said, pressing his lips together. “I understand that this pregnancy was unplanned, I want you to know that you have options.”

“Yeah…I know.” She replied, raising a curious hand to her belly. Her thoughts drifted to the gangling stray she’d brought home all that time ago, and how he’d disrupted everything in her life. At times pushing himself into places where he didn’t belong, and others creating whole new spaces inside of her. This time, he’d left a part of himself behind. A small chill slid through her and she just knew.

“I am…having this baby.” She replied. “I am having….a baby, a tiny human…person, baby.” She said to herself more than her doctor.

The doctor side eyed her. “Yes, a human baby.” He half chuckled.

At last she felt like she was able to take breaths that reached the bottom of her lungs. “Okay.” She stated reassuring herself. “Okay. Is there an Obgyn you recommend?  She asked quietly.

“Of course.” He smiled. “I’ll write you a script for prenatal vitamins to hold you over until they can get you in there, and I’ll have Jane bring in the referral. Do you have any more questions?” He asked. Abbie felt her heart leap into her throat. She’d only known she was for a few minutes and already her mind was conjuring up all of the things that she could have done to harm the baby.

“I’ve been taking my birth control pills, I mean, not in the last few weeks, but before then I was taking them the entire time…do you think the baby could have been hurt by them?” She asked sitting motionless, too afraid of his answer to even take a breath.

“No.” He replied shaking his head. “I don’t believe that’s going to be a cause of concern for you, particularly with the type of birth control pill you’ve been taking, test haven’t shown any increase in birth defects in women who took them before discovering they were pregnant.”

A sigh of relief rolled out of her all at once. She heard him clearly, heard what he didn’t say, ‘I don’t believe this will be ’ instead of ‘this is not’ a concern but still, she felt a little better knowing that the scientific testing was on her side.

He gave her a quick squeeze on the shoulder. “Congratulations Abbie, you let me know if you need anything.”

Abbie sat in her car staring off into the distance. She’d hurriedly poured over her calendar the moment she came out of the doctor’s, and kept coming back to the same date, the night the Horseman came for her. It was the only date it could have been. She and Ichabod hadn’t made love for over a week before the day due to her illness, and they didn’t make love for over two weeks after, due to the arrival of Katrina. Head cast back against the seat, a small but true smile spread to her eyes as she recalled how gently he’d touched her that night, how slowly they’d made love. She glanced down at her flat stomach, still shaking from the news, still unable to believe that any of this was happening, but it was. A new life given to the world all because she was a girl, who met a boy and believed in him when no one else did, and he loved her like no one else could. She had to tell him, she wasn’t certain how, but he needed to know. She needed him to know, to be in this with her, because despite her doctor’s reassurance she was still a little worried, and a lot scared. What if everything wasn’t okay? What if the baby was hurt? What if it didn’t make it? Her doctor had told her that the Obgyn would most likely schedule an ultrasound fairly quickly due to the nature of the pregnancy. She tried to tell herself that she just needed to remain calm until then, there was no sense in worrying when she wasn’t even certain that there was something to worry about. The situation, with Ichabod, and Jeremy…she’d already been chiding herself for it in regard to Delton, and now this, her mind was wrecked.

“Shit.” She mumbled glancing down at the clock, she needed to get a move on in order to make it home on time.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a noise that woke him that night, glass shattering. His father was away, his mother, and servants all undoubtedly sleeping, just as he had been. Lain across the sofa in his father’s study with a book collapsed over his chest. It took him a few seconds to realize that with his father away, that it was his duty to seek out the cause of the disturbance. He quickly reached under his father’s desk in search of the flintlock pistol stashed beneath it. Armed he headed toward the kitchen, where he was all but certain the crash had originated. He was young, bones mostly, and every last one of them shook as he crept down the hall. He raised his pistol at the shadowy figure milling about in his kitchen.

“You sir have made a grave error, if you move, even an inch, I will cut you down.” Ichabod warned, his hand shook a little, but at least he had the darkness to hide his fear.

A rambling, mad, sort of laughter filled the air. “Well done Ichabod. I return from a short trip at sea and you sound as though there’s hair on your chest and your gingambobs have dropped. You may have a bit of Grayson blood in you yet boy. ” A familiar voice spoke through wild laughter. Ichabod lowered his weapon and rushed forward.

“Uncle!” He exclaimed. Not just any uncle, his favorite, Chauncey. He was his mother’s youngest brother, and one of the most interesting men Ichabod had ever met. Even at a young age he’d made a name for himself as a decorated military officer. He was smart, funny, kind and quite possibly the most physically strong person Ichabod had ever known. He couldn’t help but be fascinated by him.

His uncle gave his shoulder a squeeze, and playfully slapped his cheek. “Standing guard?”

“Yes sir.” Ichabod said as his eyes flittered curiously toward the broken glass. In his excitement to see him he nearly overlooked the fact that he had broken the door to get in, something was wrong. His appearance was disheveled, clothes strewn about his person in a disorderly fashion, while his hair was wet with what Ichabod presumed to be his own perspiration. He looked down at his boots, and could see them covered in mud. This was not the sight of the orderly military officer Ichabod had known him to be, but it was his uncle, who was he to question him?

Chauncey reached into his pocket, pulled out a sack of coin and tossed it upon the table. “For the door.” He said. Ichabod nodded oddly.

“I have to….I have to go away for a while.” He said, his voice a low quiver.

“But Uncle, you have only just returned.” Ichabod smiled.

“Yes.” He replied closing his eyes. “Such is life nephew, now I must leave again. Ichabod see to it that you mother receives this.” He handed him a jar filled with sand. Ichabod held it up to the light, trying to discern whether there was something about it he’d overlooked, but alas, it was simply a jar of sand.

“She will know what it means.” His uncle stated noting his confusion.

“When shall I caution her to expect your return?” Ichabod asked.

“When she receives the jar she will understand where and when she will next greet me.”

“Uncle?” Ichabod stated scared stiff at noticing the tears in his uncle’s eyes. In his young life he had never witnessed a man cry, at the time he wasn’t certain it was entirely possible. And yet, the man he knew to be stronger than all others was on the verge of tears.

“Forgive me.” Chauncey replied quietly looking away. “Ichabod…the way you have just held guard over your home…I am infinitely proud of you.” He complimented causing Ichabod to stand a little taller and hold his chin a little higher. “You must take care to guard your heart with the same fervor. Lock it, and be most wary of who you allow a key. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Ichabod answered firmly, even though he was a bit uncertain of what he meant. A quick ruffle of his hair, and his Uncle was out of the door. He stood there frozen unable to move as he watched his figure disappear into the night. Suddenly his present day self appeared, the one who unlike the boy knew his beloved Uncle Chauncey would never return.

“Don’t simply stand there, go after him!” The older Ichabod implored. When the boy made no motion to move. Ichabod ran to the door and swung it open. “UNCLE!” He screamed. “UNCLE PLEASE!”

That was when he woke up. Bolting upright, shivering from sweat, fingers clutching his thin sheets. His eyes scoured the room as he became re-acclimated with his surroundings. He fell back to the bed breathing a heavy sigh of relief as he realized he was safe and sound in the cabin. No sooner did the air expel from his lungs than he was met with a crushing pressure tightening his chest.

_Abbie._ He thought. The same as he’d thought every other morning he’d woken without her. The reality of the fact that she wasn’t with him fell over him and fractured his spirit. He sat uncharacteristically hunched forward, elbows pinned to his knees, head sunk low. She wasn’t there, she wasn’t coming, he wasn’t going home. He pushed himself from the couch as the pain of those truths strummed through him. He’d been useless in the days before. Sure he spent time with Jeremy, but he was far too distracted for it to have been as meaningful as it should have. Today would be different, he had obligations that would force him out of the shell he found refuge in. Delton, work, both deserved more from him then they had gotten recently, he needed to pull himself together. He could hear the faint sound of Katrina clattering things about in the bathroom as he stood and began slipping into his shirt. He wondered how long she might occupy it, feeling a low rumble growing at the base of his belly. This was the third day in a row he’d woken unable to hold the contents of his stomach. He slowly took in long breaths of air in an effort to settle it.  

The noise of his phone ringing found him just as he was getting it under control.

“You’ve reached Ichabod Crane.” He stated into the phone. The voice on the other end of the line was brimming with an enthusiasm befitting a much later hour. His accountant informed him that the money he’d placed with a local investment banker had once again yielded very good returns. Ichabod had been investing and turning over funds since he received his first pay from the University, but it was only after he sold his application that he had acquired enough wealth to generate a sizable return.

“I don’t know how you keep doing it, but I got the call from Derek last night, it’s like you’ve got the midas touch or something. He wants to sit down with you by the way, he thinks you could make a fortune in his line of work.”

“I’ve already acquired a fair amount of wealth, and I have no desire to become involved in the business of banking.” He stated definitively.  

“That’s exactly what I told him. He said he couldn’t reach you and wanted to be certain you still wanted to go ahead with the sale.”

“Did the condition I outlined necessitating a sale come to pass?” Ichabod stated, while folding up the sofa bed.

“Yes. There was quite an increase, and I instructed him to sell. He said he doesn’t understand how you saw that coming, so many tiny variables had to happen just so for things to occur as they did. I know I cautioned you against this investment, and I am happy to eat crow, if you don’t mind me saying so that was a helluva gutty grab sir, you’re the man of the hour. Derek’s been getting calls all morning, people think he’s some sort of guru, they have no idea he’s only done exactly as you instructed him.”

Ichabod reinserted the couch cushions. “He is welcome to the glory and fame of it all, I’ve no use for it.” “Thank you for keeping me updated Mr. Moore.”

“Uh, there’s one more thing sir.”

“Yes.” He replied taking a seat on the sofa. His eyes closed, fingers reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose, as he listened to Mr. Moore. “Yes, yes. Please see to it that she is given all that she requests, even if she asks for all of it.”

“That’s just it sir, she doesn’t want any of it.”

“I beg pardon?”            

A little over an hour later Ichabod pulled up a few houses down from Abbie’s and parked across the street. He sat staring at the house for a minute, gathering the courage to go inside. It had been a full week since he’d left, and he hadn’t seen or spoken to her once. Much to Katrina’s dismay Jeremy had phoned her a few times and the two of them had spoken at length, but he never shared about what. Ichabod had parked in the same location in the middle of the night, every night, staring into the dark house for any sign of her. He never saw any, but somehow knowing that she was there was enough.

“Father are we to go inside?” Jeremy asked from the back seat.

“Oh,” Ichabod stated, having been lost in his thoughts. “Yes, of course.” He said unbuckling his belt, turning to see Jeremy’s smile.

“I’ve missed her, have you not father?” The boy beamed.

“Yes. Yes I have.” He answered. The pair exited the car beginning their trek to the house. He knew that he didn’t live there anymore but still couldn’t bring himself to knock on the door to the home, he deep down felt was still his. Just as he’d unlocked the door, he heard a voice calling from across the street and immediately knew it was Ms. Jacobs.  

“Jeremy you may go on inside and visit with Miss Abbie, this may take a moment.” He sighed, opening the door.

Jeremy took unsure steps through the hall, eyes darting around in search of the woman who’d saved him. He dipped into the living room and came face to face with a photograph of his father with his arms wrapped around her. He picked it up and examined it closely, eyes squinting, and head tilting slightly. He could here noise coming from the basement.

“Be back in a flash!” An exuberant voice yelled, closely followed by feet raucously running up the steps. The boys stood stock-still, peculiarly glaring at one another, Delton at the top of the basement steps, Jeremy across the room in front of the table. He sat the picture frame he’d been holding down just as Delton spoke.

“Who are you?” He asked moving forward.

“Jeremy. I’m here to visit Miss Abbie, she’s a friend of my father’s.”

“She’s my mom, but she isn’t here.” He said standing tall, offering a firm shake, the way Mr. I had showed him to upon meeting new people. “I’m Delton.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Jeremy stated.

“So who’s your dad?” Delton asked.

Both boys turned at the sound of Jenny sprinting up the stairs. “D, what’s taking so long—OH! Hi Jeremy.” She said nervously.

Jeremy smiled. “Hello Miss Jenny.”

“So if you’re here that means your dad…” Before Jenny could even get the words out Ichabod came bustling through the door.

“That woman is infirm.” He stated before looking off into the room.  

“Delton, what a happy surprise!” He chimed. The boy was wrapping his arms around him in two seconds flat.

“Mr. I!” He yelled. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Ichabod replied rubbing his hair. “How long are you visiting?”

“—Is anyone thirsty?” Jenny tried to interject, drawing an awkward glare from Ichabod. “I was just going to grab some lemonade, does anyone else want anything? Delton dismissed her question with a tidy, “No thanks,” and continued on to Ichabod’s.

“I’m not visiting. I live here now.” He said excitedly. “Miss Abbie is adopting me, she’s my mom now.” Ichabod’s eyes grew wide and shifted to Jenny’s, who’s raised brows and pursed lips told the story.

“Is that right?” Ichabod said retuning his eyes to Delton. He crouched down to look at him directly. “That is wonderful news.” He added quietly.

“Ichy,” Jenny called.

“—No, it is quite alright.” He lied. It wasn’t fine, nor okay, but that wasn’t the fault of Miss Jenny, and it couldn’t be discussed at the moment anyway.

“You have to see my room!” The boy exclaimed. “Me and my mom have been working on it a little every day for the last week, and it looks so cool, it has all of the planets in our solar system, and stars across the ceiling.” Jenny swore she saw something break in Ichabod as she looked on.

“It sound spectacular Delton, and I cannot wait to see it.” He stated raising to stand straight, “But I need to speak with Miss Jenny for a few moments. Have you met Jeremy?” Ichabod asked nodding in his direction.

“Yes sir.” Delton replied.

“Perhaps you can take him up to have a look, while I have a word with Miss Jenny.” He stated.

“Yes sir.” The said.   “Would you like to see my room?” He asked stepping in front of Jeremy.

“I would, it sounds cool.” Jeremy responded, and quickly followed after him. Ichabod watched after them as they bounced up the stairs in pursuit of Delton’s room.

“How long?” He asked glaring at Jenny as soon as he knew they were out of earshot.

“Ichy…”

“How. Long?” He repeated stiffly.

A heavy inhalation went through Jenny. “Since the night you left.”

“A week.   He’s been here for seven days, and she hasn’t thought to call.”

“I know. I tried talking to her, but…look I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you.”

“This is not your fault. You’ve done as you should in remaining loyal to your sister, it’s merely…”

“Ichy…she isn’t herself right now.” Jenny offered.

His hands lifted from his side. “And I am?” He asked, bitingly, before quickly realizing his anger was misdirected. “I’m sorry I did not mean to take it out on you, it’s just…I received a call today from my accountant, who received a call from my banker, she is attempting to have her name removed from our joint account.” He said taking a seat on the couch. He couldn’t describe the way that he felt when he received the call. He thought of her constantly, but in his head things played out much differently than they were in real life. He imagined the two of them reuniting, kissing and laughing over how foolish they were to have remained apart for even a day. Even with the way that they’d left things he’d hoped that when they next saw each other she would tell him how much she missed him, that she couldn’t bear to live without him. But being here and seeing that life seemed to be continuing as normal was a little disheartening. Seeing that she was adopting Delton and was seeking to separate their funds was downright overwhelming. He felt as though she was trying to detach parts of herself that had fused with parts of his own, and in doing so she was taking entire chunks of him with her, and this was only the beginning. If things continued at this rate, there wouldn’t be anything left. The fact that she only sought to take the funds that were hers when the account had been merged was a brutal blow. It let him know that she was trying to revert to the place she was in before. Like none of it had ever even happened. Jenny’s hand gently squeezed his knee, he looked up at her too exhausted to hide the pain looming behind his eyes.

“How is she?” He whispered.

Jenny sat up straight. “Um…” She began, softly chewing the inside of her cheek. “A lot of the time she puts on a brave face for Delton, and there are moments when she’s with him that I think maybe she’s okay. And then there are moments when she looks like she’s lost her best friend, and…” Jenny sighed, silencing her tongue wondering if she should keep the next bit to herself, not even Abbie realized she knew.

“Go on.” Ichabod urged.

“She cries sometimes at night…I’ve been staying here a lot, in your old room. I happened to be walking by her room one night, and I heard her. It was quiet, and almost anyone else would have never have noticed, but I know her, she was crying. She’s hurting.”

Ichabod sits back letting his head fall against the back of the couch. He pinches the bridge of his nose as his eyes slam shut. He hates the thought of her unhappy even though she’s the cause of the sorrow he feels every second of the day. _She isn’t alone in tears_ , he thinks but doesn’t say.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping as well.” He acknowledges.

Jenny looks over at him. “It might be easier if you tried it in your bed, instead of your car.” She advises, and Ichabod is quickly upright.

“Miss Jenny.” She can hear the urgency in his voice. He’s already done everything short of throwing himself at Abbie’s feet, he couldn’t let her find that he’d been sitting in front of her house all hours of the night.

“Relax Ichy, I haven’t said anything. I saw you the other night, I was heading to Frank’s after she was sleeping, and there you were. When I got close I could tell you were sleeping and I didn’t wanna wake you...Maybe you should just tell her how you feel.”

“I have, and my feelings have remained the same since the last time we spoke, if hers have changed she should be the one to declare such.   Besides...”

“Besides what?” Jenny’s phone rings. “Hold that thought, I have to take this.” She says stepping to the other side of the room.

His eyes are pulled to a photograph of him and Abbie in happier times. Ichabod unable to meet Miss Jenny’s request, lets his thoughts go, and helplessly follows behind them.

_Besides, I worry my heart will never withstand another rejection by her hand, I am still a caricature of the man I was from the last one. Because I’ve already asked twice, and though the third time might prove to be the charm, it may also be met with a deafening finality that I’m ill-prepared to accept, a finality I doubt that I shall ever be prepared to accept. And because it is always me. When we fight or argue it is always me who yields, who bends. It’s not what she wants in a man, nor what she desires, and even if it is it isn’t what she needs. She needs a man who is equal in strength, and I intend to provide her with what she needs, even if it hurts her…even if it hurts us both._

“Really….I promise, I’m still coming, I’m just waiting for Abbie, she texted to say she was running a little late…me too, okay, bye.”

“If you have an engagement that begs your presence, by all means go, I can look after Delton.” He offered as Jenny pocketed her phone.

“Uh, I am seriously late but I don’t know, Abbie…” He could tell from the expression on her face that she was concerned about Abbie being upset with her.

“Worry not, I will talk with Abbie. Clearly we have much to discuss, I insist.” He snarled a little more than stated.

Jenny stood and walked into the kitchen to grab her purse. “You’re sure you don’t mind?” She asked one final time.

“He is as much my son as he is hers. I am certain that will be well understood after today.” He said rising to see her off. She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“Good luck.” She said. “I’m rooting for you two.”

 

Abbie pulled into the garage and hastily grabbed her sacks of groceries. Since leaving the doctor’s office she felt as though she was sleepwalking through the remainder of her errands. The line at the pharmacy was around the corner, and any other day should would have skipped it but she needed to pick up Delton’s inhaler. Motherhood was new to her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if things would flow as naturally with the little one as they had with Delton. Would she be as good at it with this new smaller child who would depend on her for absolutely everything? Perhaps if she wasn’t so consumed by her thoughts she might have seen Ichabod’s car parked up the road, she might have noticed Jenny’s was missing, but she didn’t.  

“I’m here.” She called, as she hurried in, and quickly proceeded to the kitchen. “Jenny, sorry I’m late did you…” Her eyes stretch and lips part to form an o as she finds the man she couldn’t stop thinking of on the way home staring at her as he polished off a plate of leftover lasagna she’d prepared the night before.

“Hello, _mum._ ” He says looking up from the table. She’s thrown for a moment, failingly trying to reconcile his cheerful tone with the sinister look on his face. She hears the sack of groceries hit the floor just before she realizes she’s dropped it. Her limbs had gone limp, and there wasn’t a struggle to keep the bag from falling, or even a rush to pick up it’s scattered contents. She stares at him, not quite able to move beneath the weight of his eyes, not quite able to understand why. He’s angry with her, that much she knows for sure. His glare is apoplectic, jaws as locked as a cell in a maximum security prison, she can tell that he’s hurt, and furious, and so she does the only thing she can think to in that moment, looks away. Her eyes turn to the spilled groceries, and she bends to start collecting poultry and produce, hands grasping at the sunflower seed butter she suddenly can’t get enough of. She hears his chair slide back. His steps pacing toward her, and then he’s kneeling and collecting the groceries alongside of her, but she still can’t manage to look at him.

There is a certain air he exudes, a room feels different when he’s in it, it’s impossible to ignore. Still she tries to, but not looking at him is only made worse by the fact that he hasn’t stopped staring at her since she came through the door. She can feel his eyes penetrating her skin. His arm brushes hers while reaching for a can of soup, and chills envelope her entire body. It feels good to have him close, to feel his presence, even though he’s angry. She looks at him then, softly, the way that she often had when she’d started to tell him she loved him but then decided the words weren’t enough. Normally she would just reach out and touch him when she felt that way, caress his arm, drag her fingers along the nape of his neck, stroke his beard…kiss him. All of those possibilities seem inapt in the moment. She’d asked him to leave, he did. What would give her the right to touch him that way? A small answer creeps into her head, _something inside of you that’s half of him, something that’s growing and multiplying every second_. She knew she missed him, and ironically now that he was here, she missed him even more. She wants to tell him as much, but doesn’t.

He looks away, fuming, he can’t believe that she saw fit to proceed with Delton’s adoption without so much as a call, on top of that he can’t believe that she’s taken steps to separate their accounts. He wants to stay this angry, to remain this mad because honestly it’s a welcome change from the grief he’s been feeling. But, s _he smells so good,_ and something inside of him is happy just to see her _._ Before he knows it the voice inside of his head is telling him how radiant and beautiful she is, as if he can’t see for himself, as if it wasn’t clear for everyone to see. He tries to focus on the task at hand, but he can’t manage to keep his eyes off of her. She’s wearing a dress, one he rather favors but secretly preferred she didn’t wear, especially in his absence. It’s peach at the top, strapless with a soft fabric that stretches around and clings to her bosom. The bottom is designed in a floral pattern, browns, tans, and hints of peach flowers all covering a white background. It’s comprised of a somewhat stiffer fabric than the top, but still manages to be form fitting. The pockets in the side are what sent her overboard propelling her to purchase it within moments of spotting it. It was short. Much shorter than most of the casual dresses she wore, he truly only knew she meant it to be casual by the flat sandals and sweater she generally wore along with it. He’d thought often but never dared to say that it was perhaps more suitable for a woman with a little _less_ than she had. To think it was something she reportedly merely ‘ _tossed on_ ’, who tossed on anything and looked that way? He notices she’s wearing the earring’s he’d purchased her on Mackinac Island, small, clear diamond studs. He wonders how long she’s worn them. He’s had so much to say to her, gone over it in his head again and again while he waited, and now he feels speechless. He doesn’t understand how but she’s become this sort of god, capable of giving him everything he wants, and taking it all away. He wants to scream at her, he wants to tell her that she’s ruined his life…he wants to crawl over the top of her, and make love to her until his heart gives out.  

“Where is he?” She asks, standing to place her gatherings on the counter.   His eyes can’t help but follow her legs as he rises from the floor, he’s thankful she facing away so he doesn’t have to bother with being discreet.

“Pardon?” He murmurs, rising with the goods he’s collected.

She turns to face him. “D, where is he?”

And then he remembers why he’s so upset with her. “Downstairs, playing the video game system…with his brother.” He adds, with a stiff glare. Abbie sighs, rolling her head back slightly to meet his eyes. She knows what’s coming, expected it even, she only thought that it would have happened sooner.

“Excuse me a minute.” She says before heading down the hall leading to the basement. She goes down to check on the boys, it takes a while because Jeremy’s excited to see her, and has a million things to share. Ten minutes later she returns, grabs a couple of juices and runs them back down before coming back up and closing the door behind her.

“How are they?” He asks as she returns to her groceries.

“They’re playing the game, having a blast.” She answered tucking a box of crackers into the cabinet. She turns and approaches the island, feeling his eyes on her.

“I was going to call.” She asserted, her voice taking a serious tone.

“—When?!” He asked loudly before she barely finishes her statement.

“Soon. Today.” She answers, bracing.

“How convenient. I simply cannot begin to follow your reasoning. Mere days ago you cast away everything we had so that Jeremy might have sufficient time with both of his parents, and yet you choose to begrudge the same for Delton.”

“That’s not what I was trying to do.”

“And still you have.” Ichabod complains. “ _He needs_ _me_.” He argues holding up a single finger.

“I’m not disputing that.” She agrees.

“Then why Abbie, why have you not phoned to relay the fact that you were adopting him. He’s my _son_ , did you honestly believe that I would simply fade away, or allow you to keep him from me.” He barks, fingers clenching the edge of the island as he leaned just inches from Abbie’s face.

“You need, to calm down.” She warns.

“I have every _right_ to be angry.” He countered.

“You still need to keep your voice down.” Abbie spoke in a hushed, but firm tone. “I had no intention of keeping him from you. I know that I should have called you, that I should have given you a heads up, but I wasn’t thinking about any of that.” She says defensively.

“Oh, that I believe, what I find hard to believe is that you were _THINKING AT ALL_! He yells. They may not have heard the words, but she knows they’ve heard a part of it. Her face reflects a blow far greater than the one he believes he’s just dealt, she was never this easy to hurt in the past. But now there’s tears behind her eyes and he wants to hold her…to apologize, but he’s too prideful. She waits a moment, staring at him, letting his words, his attitude, all of it sink in. Her face changes, almost instantly, all signs of hurt vacated and replaced with a simmering choler.

She walks around the island to stand in front of him because she needs him to hear every single word that she’s about to say.

“You want to know what I was thinking.” She snaps jabbing a finger into his chest. “I was thinking about _him_. About that little boy down there, and what _he_ deserves, about every-fucking-thing and one, that I’ve put in front of him when I never should have put anyone in front of him. _That’s_ what I was thinking about.” Her words sting, he knows that when she says everyone what she really means to say is one, what she really means to say is him. She was ready to adopt Delton as soon as the war ended, they both were, but Katrina appeared, and she wanted him to have time to get her settled.

His hand reaches for her arm but she swats it away. “Abbie”

“—I’m not finished.” She said closing in to the point that she’s sharing shoes with him.   Her head moves along with her words and her finger is but an inch from his face. He’s told her once before about it, about respecting him, but seeing as he’s the one who established the tone of the discussion, he says nothing, and stands through it.

“The phone works _both_ ways, and I left explicit instructions at the orphanage for them to tell you exactly where your quote on quote _son_ was. So had you bothered to call him, or visit, I don’t know in the last _sev-en days_ ,” she rants, briefly holding up seven fingers, and then she’s right back to pointing, “You would have known exactly where he was, and how to contact him. So do not come up in here pointing fingers at me, _wonder-dad_ , and I mean wonder as in my son’s been wondering when he was gonna see your ass again, so yes, for him, _I_ was going to call you to-day irrespective of whether or not it was convenient.” She seethes.

His mouth opens and he quickly closes it before the voice and words that want to come out have a chance to escape. He takes a step back from her before turning and walking out of the door.

“Oh fucking great,” She laments, “Yeah, just go.” Abbie moans covering her face with her hands. Nothing is going the way she wanted it to. She planned on calling him tonight to talk about Delton, about the baby…but when she came in and he was already here it threw everything off. He was blaming her, judging her, and with everything that was going on, she lost it. She looks toward the door, wanting to go after him, knowing that she couldn’t. She wasn’t blind, and as loving and as gentlemanly as he was, a minute ago he looked like he wanted to call her a bitch and snatch her up by her armpits. Walking away was an indication that he needed space, and she needed allow him that. She was seated at the table clutching her forehead in her hands when she heard the first crack of his axe. A lengthy sigh fell from her lips, relieved that he hadn’t left. She walked over to the window to find him driving his axe through a block of wood. She was angry, but even through it she knew he didn’t deserve some of the things she’d said. Why didn’t he realize that he wasn’t the only one going through it, that she wasn’t out to get him, she was only trying to make everyone happy. She busied herself putting away the remainder of her groceries before going out to his side a little later.

She stood holding her hands in her pocket, dragging her foot along the blades of grass, gathering her thoughts before she spoke.

“I’m sorry. I was hurt, and I lashed out. But it’s no excuse for what I said, everything you’ve done for D, the way you are with Jeremy…you’re a wonderful father, not a wonder-dad,” she said wincing, knowing she gotten into her feelings and crossed a line.   Unsure if that type of criticism could be taken back. She knows he hears her, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, so she speaks between cracks of the wood.

“You didn’t deserve that, and I apologize…and for the record I wasn’t trying to keep him from you, it’s just when you didn’t call I thought maybe…I don’t know you were too busy, or, I don’t know. I didn’t want to force it, but then I realized I had to because…because I could tell how much he missed you.” She wasn’t lying. The first couple of days, Delton seemed okay, but by the fifth day it was clear how much Ichabod’s absence was bothering him. It was then that Abbie truly began to realize that in making the decision to give up Ichabod, she’d also made that decision for him. Only he never wanted to give him up, he was the closest thing to a father he’d ever had, he loved him, and he needed him in his life.

Ichabod places another block of wood on the stump and swings his axe through it, showing no reaction to Abbie’s words.

“Okay. Well I’ll give you some time, I’ll be inside in case you want to,” She watches him swing the axe through another piece of wood and can’t believe he’s ignoring her like this, “finish talking about this.” She continues quietly. She’s just about to take her third step when she feels his hand around her wrist.

“I missed him.” He states quietly. “I _missed_ him, and I wanted to see him more than I can relay, in fact, I’d planned upon picking him up today. I admit I did not manage to make it to see him the previous days, I thought perhaps he would be with you, and I wanted to allow you that time, because I know how severely you must have missed him all the while you were gone. Tis no excuse, I was a _coward_ for not calling, I knew he would have been with you the majority of the time, and that he surely had questions as to my whereabouts, why I was never home…I had no idea how to respond to such questions, because I have yet to accept or fully comprehend the reasoning behind them for myself, how can I be expected to explain them to him. I needed some time to bring myself together, I have been,” _heartbroken, depressed…miserable,_ he thinks.“Suffice it to say that I have seen better days, but I do love him Abbie, I will never abandon him. I should never have left you to answer all of his questions on your own, forgive me that, but had you called I would have come. Surely you must know how devastating your procession in adopting him without me is.” It’s only then that she turns to face him, and he can see the balance of tears in her eyes. The axe collapses to the ground as he pulls her to him.

“Abbie.”

“It kills me too,” she cries, “I never wanted it to be this way. That’s why I thought it might be easier if.” _If maybe you weren’t a part of his life at all, a part of our lives at all._ She thinks, but she can’t say, it will only hurt him. “Look you don’t have to do this, if you were to go on with your life, and you didn’t make it back here, no one would blame you. After all that is the reason you and I decided to part ways, so you could have that time unimpeded with Jeremy…but if you tell D that you’ll be here for him, and then somehow you aren’t or can’t, it will crush him.”

“I will never do that, I never could, I love him, just as I love Jeremy. You’ve already asked me to walk away from you, but do not expect me to do that to Delton, I will not do it, not _even_ for you.” He pledges, fingers digging into her back.

“I would never ask that of you, that’s not what this is about, and I will _never_ keep him from you, you can see him whenever you want, as much as you want.” She offers. His mouth is pulled into a deep frown, and he can feel moisture building in his eyes as he wonders, _What about you…when can I see you?_ But he manages a nod his head in agreement.

“And you don’t need to apologize for not helping me talk with him because,” she shrugs, “Honestly I haven’t. You know how he is, he’s sensitive, and he senses things.   He knows that you’re no longer living here, but he hasn’t asked me why, and _I’m_ the coward because I know he wants to know and I’ve been too afraid to tell him. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just thought maybe he would be okay without a father, without you. But he isn’t, he needs you, and I’m glad you feel the way you do because I want you to be there for him.”

“Always.   I will always be here for him.” Ichabod says hearing the words that Abbie never spoke. The same emotion that drove her to step aside for Jeremy’s sake, was now needling her in regard to Delton. Her father wasn’t there when she needed him most, she’d once told Ichabod that she would have rather she’d never known him.

“You will never have to raise him alone.” He said rubbing his hands across her back. She smirked drying her tears.

“I’ve been a mother for like a week, and I’m already fucking things up.” Ichabod gently squeezed her arm.

“I am certain that you are doing your best…besides you’ve been mucking things up with him far longer than five days.” Ichabod smiles. “I seem to recall a time at the pool, remember the little girl from the afterschool program was there, the one he had the magnificent crush on.”

“Stooop.” Abbie says, transitioning into laughter just that quickly. “Why can you not let that go, you make me sound so overbearing.” She laughs covering her face.

“Because it was his _moment_ , and you spoiled it.” He smiles, a tiny twinkle touching his eyes.

“Spoiled it?!” Abbie exclaims, “That girl was like eleven years old, she was too old for him to begin with, on top of that she was gorgeous, she had all that curly hair, and her legs were as long as mine, she was going to break his heart, I saved him, I pro-tect-ed him.”

“ _You_ pushed her into the pool.” Ichabod laughs. Abbie erupts into laughter.

“I didn’t push her, I bumped her, it was an accident, sort of.” She laughs, lightly shoving Ichabod.

“You were deranged.” He states, widening his stance, and knotting his wrists behind her. “And I remember thinking at that exact moment, my Abbie’s become a mother.” Their laughter stops as the sobriety of the moment reaches them, she isn’t his Abbie anymore. They regard each other through pained expressions, both unable to comprehend how things came to this. Making loose parenting time arrangements in the backyard of a home they thought they’d grow old in. Just as she’s ready to back away she feels him pull her a little closer, in a soft unspoken request. Don’t go.    

It’s quiet, and she knows the look in his eyes. The breeze picks up and in that moment they feel as isolated from the world as the apple tree they’re standing under. The birds that have made their home there flutter about singing unwritten summer day hymnals, and she almost feels as if she’s been here before. She misses this, laughing, crying, the comfort she finds in his presence. She isn’t surprised when his lips press against the skin between her brows, but her heart skips a beat nonetheless, she shaken just to be near him. Ichabod can’t get over how good it feels to hold her, to kiss her, he hates the thought that this may no longer be permissible, but she hasn’t asked him to stop, so he prods on. He wishes he was strong enough to resist her, to temper his urges, but he isn’t, he can’t stay angry with her. Soft lips trace a path down the slope of her nose, Ichabod methodically pressing kisses into her skin as he pleased. He stopped short of taking her lips, he’s promised himself something, and as much as he misses the feel of her lips against his, and the taste of her mouth, he holds back. His head rests over hers while his virile lips hang over her slightly open mouth, he can’t think, and he can barely breathe, but he can feel the breath easing from the mouth he’s memorized every quadrant of.

He swore he wouldn’t touch her, he wouldn’t kiss her, he wouldn’t beg her, _she_ wanted him gone. But seeing her, standing right in front of him, feeling her in his arms has undone all of the progress he’s made in the past few days. His hands ease up her waist and abdomen until his thumbs graze the bottom of her bra. Exhilaration burst through him, heightened by the frenetic energy spooling between them, and though inward mantra’s echo through his thoughts telling him that she is no longer his, the way her stomach jumps beneath his touch says otherwise. She belonged to him, as much as one person could belong to another, she was her own woman to be sure, but everything about her was his. Her time, her heart, soul, those lips that he’s longing to kiss, her eyes, smile, that delicious round curve travelling around behind her….Chloe, all of it belonged to him. His eyes are half closed, but he can still see that she’s watching his mouth.

“You feel so good.” He whispers, unable to keep silent the thoughts tumbling around in his head. The words are barely out of his mouth before he feels her hands clench around his shirt as she stretches and pulls herself up his frame. Her full lips smother his with impenitent kisses that heal the whole of his soul. He tries to remain patient, letting her lead, agreeing to follow, but within moments he’s taken the reins. A quiet indulgent hum escapes from the back of her throat, just as his lips open across it. Her hands grow even tighter around him, reflexively, a habit borne out of him doing something that she doesn’t want him to stop doing, something that she wants him to do again. Ichabod holds her in place, leaning forward, and lifting her, first slightly off of her toes until he slowly pulls her free of the earth. His hands drift below her waist until he’s positioned them upon her backside in an effort to secure her weight. She feels him hardening against her, and can’t subdue a tiny gasp. She doesn’t wrap her legs around him, and as soon as he notices he realizes why—her dress. The trees and foliage surrounding the yard shutter chance viewings from the neighbors, but it is possible that the boys could come out, he grins thinking already she was better at this parenting thing than him.

He slides his arm beneath her knees and lets her supple limbs fall over his forearm, eyes glued to hers as he carries her the few short steps to the tree stump. He’d been worried, even though he knew how much she cared for him there was a little voice inside of him trying to convince him otherwise. Previous nights he’d stared at the ceiling listening to it tell him, _if she loved you, she wouldn’t have abandoned you, she would have stayed._ But the way she looked at him, eyes filled with a warmth and recognition of a thousand secrets only they shared made clear that her affection for him hadn’t diminished. Knowing that and holding her that way brought every nerve ending in his body to the surface of his skin. Ten minutes later they were still seated upon the stump, limbs coiled around each other as he dropped tiny kisses on top of her head. She needs this, to be in his arms, folded against him shielded from everything else in the world. Her ear sealed to his chest listening to the inner workings of the man she loves. Her serpentine curves sprawled across his lap, are controlling his every thought. He can’t help but think how with very little effort he could discreetly and quickly relieve all of the tension he feels beneath the pads of his hands. It’s as simple as moving his hand up her dress and slipping his cool dry fingertips inside the confines of her panties. He leans back taking a quick glance over his shoulder, deciding, and returns with delicate kisses and anxious fingers inching up her inner thigh. His hot breath seeps through the layers of fabric covering her breast as his teeth tug them down, the tip of his tongue caresses her nipple, and something inside of her crumbles. A soft moan winds through her and she’s caught between wanting to kiss him and push him away.  The resolve comes from a well of strength she didn't know she had, but manages just slightly to gather herself. She pulls her top back up before quickly dropping her hands to his bearded face to gain his attention.  A shaky leg finds the ground and she regains her footing, Ichabod quickly joins her, both of them sucking wind.

“I’m sorry about that.” Abbie quickly stammers, realizing she had a very heavy hand in what just occurred. He’s rock hard, and her eyes follow his fingers as they fall to adjust his length. He notices her watching and doesn’t bother with disguising his movements, he even licks his lips for added measure.

There’s pounding between her thighs and she doesn’t quite trust herself. “Ichabod, we can’t just…I”

Ichabod mockingly holds his hands up in surrender, trying to regain his breath. “—I’m aware you have yet to resume your birth control regimen.” He jokes, thinking back to the last time they were together this way. Knowing that even if she had, he had no chance of making love to her in the middle of the day with the kids milling about. Her face takes on a wry grin and he laughs at her discomfort, he knows this isn’t a reconciliation, that the situation is still the same but he can’t help teasing her. He wants her, wants to peel her out of her dress and taste every part of her, in fact he can scarcely recall a time that he wanted her clit inside of his mouth as much as he did at that very moment. He _wanted_ her. Nearly as much as he wants to come home, but he’ll have neither unless it is by her request, that much he’s promised himself.

“Uh, no actually I haven’t, I want to talk with you about that, by the way.” She says, nearly linking her brows.

“Abbie there’s no need. I understand, after giving it some thought I rather heartily agree with you.” He says.

“Agree with me, how so?” She probes, eyebrow inching up.

“That night in the hotel room, I was desperate, I would have done anything to keep you with me…but I was foolish, and impulsive, and wrong,” he said taking her by the hand, “You were right. Jeremy seems to be getting along fairly well, he’s adaptive, but the insecurities that plague him are just beneath the surface. I do need to spend as much time with him as possible. Still I do not believe that the lengths to which you have gone were necessary, but alas we have discussed that ad nauseam, and must agree to disagree. Nonetheless, clearly this would have been a most inopportune time for us to chance creating a life. At this time neither of us have the time and attention to focus upon a child, and I must ask your forgiveness for attempting to pressure you into a situation that I myself am woefully ill prepared to meet. Already there is so much before me with everything that’s transpired with Jeremy, and now Delton, it will be quite the challenge just with managing the two of them. In addition to that Perry and I have been in the midst of a new undertaking. And I do still desire teaching, it fulfills a certain need in me, and even though I’m hopeful to have established some sort of routine before the end of next month, I fear things will only become even more challenging when the semester begins. You”, He said shaking his head, “Always have foresight, when my own proves cloudy. Thank you for that.” He adds convincingly. Or at least he hopes it is. Who is he kidding, if she told him she wanted three kids within the span of three years he would oblige without a second thought. But she doesn’t, she’s too practical for that, and too practical to think of having children with everything going on, which is precisely why he should have kept his mouth closed in the hotel room.  

Abbie’s world shifts because something that she was certain of, something she’d relied upon to keep her balance through all of this is no longer there. Before him she had never imagined being pregnant, and she sure as hell hadn’t imagined being pregnant by someone who didn’t want her to be, but he didn’t, not now at least. They say you can only really feel motion when you speed up, or slow down, everything around Abbie seemed to keep moving, but she stopped. He’s in front of her and she sees his lips moving, knows he’s speaking but his words make no sound in this new world she’s in. She’d imagined so many things on the way home from the doctors, when and where she would tell him, how his face would light up when he heard the news, how she’d had a change of heart about the idea of them having a baby…she never once imagined that he had as well. She’d meant what she said before, about the timing being all wrong, about a baby only complicating things, about not wanting to be pregnant. All of it was true, but in spite of it all, she _wanted_ this baby. Ichabod notices that Abbie’s eyes are focused upon the tree-line, rather them him. “Abbie.” He whispers, growing concerned. “What is it, are you still angry because”

“—Uh, no. Nothing. I’m fine.” She manages, fighting her way back. She swears she can feel her heart in the bottom of her shoes, and her spine bends enough to make her conscious that she needs to straighten it. How does she tell him that she’s pregnant with his child after he’s just told her that it’s a horrible time to have a baby? After he’s just told her that he isn’t ready. On one hand she could still recall how hurt he was when he realized Katrina had concealed her pregnancy from him, on the other she began to realize how someone could do that, why someone might want to do that.

“I’m glad that you understand where I’m was coming from.” She stated.    

“We have no choice but to repair our differences,” He says gently grasping her arm, “There are children between us now.”

“Children?” She asks slowly.

“Of course, Delton, and Jeremy. I understand that he is not yours, and our situation is…strained, but he asks after you constantly.”

Abbie smiled. “I understand. You already know I’ll do anything I can for him, he’s a part of you.” She stated, garnering a bittersweet smile from Ichabod. “Speaking of which I better go and check on them.” She said turning around and heading back inside. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts, but she realized she wasn’t going to get it, as he fell in step beside her.

“I will join you. Perhaps now we can speak to Delton, together.” He proposed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	23. Hotline Bling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! Thank you for reading, kudos, comments, it means a lot. I forgot to mention am using my bestie as a template for Abbie's physical changes. Like Abbie she's a shorty too, maybe a touch taller, she's nearly 5'2, 115 pounds and just gave birth to the juiciest, prettiest, little 8 pound 9 ounce baby girl I ever saw. I hope you all enjoy the chapter, the next one will be up tonight or tomorrow. :-)!

“So if Mr. I is your dad, how come I’ve never met you before?” Delton asks, leaning back on his hunches. He and Jeremy sat on the floor in front of the TV waiting for a new game to load.

“I’ve just moved here.” Jeremy responds, crossing his legs.

“Oh, you used to live with your mom?”

“When I younger, my mother and father were unable to keep me, so another family raised me…but they died.   And then I lived in an orphanage.” Jeremy answered.

“I lived in an orphanage too!” Delton replied excitedly.

“Oh!” Jeremy said, surprised. “I thought you were Miss Abbie’s son.”

“I am.” Delton smiled. “She’s adopting me.”

“You’re lucky, she’s nice.” Jeremy smiled, turning to face Delton. “So who is your father?”

“I don’t know.” He said picking the remote up. “I mean…I don’t have one I guess.”

“That’s alright. For a time, I knew not who my father was either. Well I knew who he was, only I’d never met him. But now that I have, he’s nice.” Jeremy smiled.

“Yeah, he’s the best! He’s so much fun.” Delton offered brightly, sitting to his butt. “Hey can I tell you something?” He asked.

“Certainly.”

“I used to think that your dad was going to be my dad…but I don’t think it’s going to happen that way anymore.” Delton postulates.

“Why not?” Jeremy asked growing interested.

“Just a feeling. You know he used to live in this house, with my mom.” Delton divulged.

“I could tell.” Jeremy admitted. “He lives with my mother now, but I think he would much rather live here with yours. Can I tell _you_ something?” Jeremy asks, and Delton immediately understands the unspoken pact of silence. The one he instrumented when he first spoke of thinking Mr. I would be his father.

“Yeah?”  

Jeremy looked behind him and spoke in a hushed tone. “I don’t blame him, I quite favor your mother as well. She’s really funny, and quite kind.”

“Yeah my mom is pretty awesome. Even when she makes me do things that I don’t want to like, brush my teeth before bed, or eat my broccoli, which gross, she’s still the best. She’s a police detective you know. Isn’t your mom nice?” Both boys looked behind them at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

Ichabod couldn’t help but smile to see the two of them getting on so well together. He folded his arms in front of him, as they turned to look up at him and Abbie.

“What are you two up to?” He asked, having heard them chattering on as they came down the stairs, but unable to make out what they were saying.

“Just talking.” Delton offered.

Abbie shuffled a few throw pillows out of the way and took a seat on the couch. “About what?”

“He just finished teaching me how to play a racing game.” Jeremy responded.

“Did he?” Ichabod asked.

“Yes sir.” Delton said standing up, offering the remote to Ichabod. “Would you like a turn?” He asks knowing who much Mr. I enjoyed the game.  

Perhaps another time, there is something that I—pardon, rather your mum and I need to discuss with you.” He said glancing over at Abbie. “Let us turn off the game for a bit, and come have a seat upon the sofa.”

“Okay.” Delton replied, doing as he was asked.

“Jeremy, you as well, what we need to say will affect the both of you.” He adds.

“Yes sir.” Jeremy replied, joining Delton and Abbie on the sofa.

Ichabod pulled the chair away from the desk and sat it next to Abbie facing the two boys.  

He spoke first to Delton. “I recognize that things are rapidly changing, and that might seem a little frightening and confusing, but it’s important for you to know that in the midst of all of these changes, the relationship that you and I share shall remain the same. I may not reside…in this home anymore, but I will always be here when you need me. Your mum and I love you very much. We love both of you.” He adds looking at Jeremy. “And we will always be here for you. I want you both to understand something, I do not love anything in the entire world, _more_ than I love the two of you. You are my sons. I am your father. Both of you.”

Delton looked over at Abbie, his eyes brimming with joyful curiosity. A goofy grin befell him, and Abbie quickly recognized the wordless question. _Really?_ She chuckled softly at his excitement and gave him a quick nod. He loved her, and she knew he did, there were times when he only wanted her. But the way he looked at Ichabod, the way he looked up to him, it was clear that in Delton’s eyes, he could do no wrong.

“From this day forward the two of you are brothers.” Ichabod continued. “You may not share the same mother, but you share a father in me. I need you to promise that you will always look after one another, and that you will always be there for each other. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes sir.” They answered, in near unison, promising and swearing oaths.

“Come here.” Ichabod beckoned, standing to wrap his arms around him.  

“Um does this mean that I call you dad?” Delton questioned. “Ichabod crouched down so that they were eye level, and rested a hand upon his shoulder.

“It would be a most exalted honor.” He smiled. Delton locked his arms around his neck, as Ichabod pulled him close, hugging a little tighter than he probably should have, but he had been fighting for this moment for a very long time. He could feel himself tearing up a little but hid all signs. He looked over at Jeremy who was all smiles.

“And what are you so cheerful about?” He asked reaching a hand out to tickle his belly.

“My new brother of course.” He grinned. Abbie looked on as Ichabod reached out and pulled him into the hug as well. She was happy for him, having both his sons with him, he was a good man and a better father. She only wished that he was in a place to be more receptive to the things she wanted to tell him.

They talked for a while, the four of them laughing and joking about everything and nothing at all, old stories, and new ideas. After Abbie teased him about his goofy sounding laugh, Ichabod recruited the boys to tickle her until she lost her breath. He thought it a clever plan until he stood back and watched her with them, her limbs thrusting out to stop the attack while energetic, uncontrollable, laughter, and happiness sprang forth from everything he loved most in the world. He remembered everything, invariably, rows upon rows of senseless and hurtful information he’d never been so fortunate to forget. Battles, deaths, heartbreak all there with infrangible accuracy, ready to be displayed at any time his mind took a few too many turns. But as he stood there silently thanking every star across the heavens for the most beautiful and perfect life that he ever could have asked for, he forgot for the briefest time that this life was not theirs, and in forgetting that one, huge, detail, he found a moment of incalculable happiness. It wasn’t until she’d settled the boys down and their raucous laughter turned to quiet chuckles that he caught her eyes, and the sliver of melancholy he saw hidden behind them reminded him of the truth. This wasn’t real, or their life, but mere moments stolen from the one they’d recently agreed to live. She and Delton would remain here tonight, and he and Jeremy would return to the cabin, he wished then he would have never forgotten, because as sweet as it was to forget, the act of remembering hollowed him.

 

Abbie came in from the backyard after checking on the boys. Ichabod had sent them outside for a while citing the need for fresh air and exercise. She knew partially it was so they could talk. Though after becoming frustrated with her reluctance to accept any of his money, he headed upstairs to the shower. Finally dressed, he ventured toward the bedroom window, watching for a bit, as the boys played catch in the backyard. By the time he came back downstairs, Abbie was at the kitchen sink running the fruit she’d purchased earlier under the faucet. He was in the middle of straightening his tie, but felt he needed to loosen it as she bent forward to scrub her produce more vigorously. His tongue hung a horizontal pass across his lips just as his nimble fingers quickly smoothed over the front of his trousers.

“All finished?” She called over her shoulder, sensing his presence behind her.

“Yes, thank you once more for allowing me use of the shower, I had hoped to have time to return to the cabin to change before my meeting. He responded coming further into the kitchen.

“No problem, and I told you, you don’t need to ask to use stuff around here, it’s,” Abbie turned around to face him while finishing her sentence and couldn’t remember what she was saying. She swiftly turned back to her fruit, mouth breathing as she tried to get the image of him out of her head. It was Bren’s fault, part of it at least, she thought recalling a drunken game of cards that somehow grew into a ridiculous wager.

“Nope, nope, nope, If I win, I want that muaffuckin coat.” Bren had leveraged, through drunken slurs.

“To which motherf,” Ichabod smiled at nearly saying the words, but caught himself at the last moment, Abbie new then he was drunk, “To which coat is it that you are referring?” He asked. When she looked at him it was clear he could barely keep his eyes open. Bren’s eyes widened to gigantic proportions, as he sat the deck of cards down on the table to more clearly illustrate his point.

“Which coat!” He screamed laughing, “Which coat, you know that Michael Jackson ass coat you wear all the damn time. It got like a hundred old-ass, barely hanging on buttons on both sides.” Bren teased, causing Abbie to jump in.

“Uh un” she laughed. “Bren, you need to chill out on his life, or we’re going to have a problem.”

“Abbie, I’m trying to help him, this my muaffuckin guy right here.” He slurred clutching his cup, “I love this muaffucka,” He added throwing an arm around Ichabod, “But I hate that damn coat.”

“What’s up man, you in?” He asked.

“I believe that wager to be a bit steep for me.” Ichabod replied.

“Bro you got all our money in your pocket right now, and this is too steep. Look-look-look, if you win you can go into my tailor and I will have him make you any suit you want. If I win, I just want that coat, you win either way!”

“All the same, I shall pass.” Ichabod stated, downing his cup. But Bren had been around him long enough to know precisely how to push his buttons.”

“I respect that bro,” He said leaning back into his seat, and tipping his cup. “This game isn’t for the slight of heart, you know.”

Ichabod sat up straight as a board. “Oh, I’m in.” He tapped the table with his pointer finger. “Disperse the cards.”

He won, as Abbie knew he would before the cards had even finished being dealt. There was a look in his eyes, a certain poise that overtook him whenever he was fully dialed in and focused on something, whenever he got that way he was nearly impossible to stop. The following week he’d paid a visit to Bren’s tailor, and that was how he developed an affinity for bespoke suits. That was why he was standing in her kitchen with that very same look in his eyes shining like living perfection. That was why her breath was shallow, and the skin hidden beneath her clothing trembled. _You’re an adult_ , she reminded herself. _You cook and eat vegetables, even when you don’t want to. You have a little boy that you manage to keep alive and well, you vote, you buy toilet paper—BEFORE you run out of toilet paper, you’re and adult. So why do I feel like a seventeen year old school girl whenever he’s around?_

“You look great, good luck.” She said calmly, packing up a bundle of grapes. She studies her task trying to cast away images of broad shoulders in dark blue suits, of ripping that same suit from his warm body in a flurry of passion. _Pull it together Abbie, that is exactly how you ended up carrying a child he isn’t ready to parent in the first place._

Ichabod studied the contrite expression covering Abbie’s face. “Many thanks. You seem…distracted.” He remarked stepping closer. “Is there something weighing upon you?” Abbie paused from her actions long enough to find his eyes. She hated how well he knew her, how easily he could sense when something was off, sometimes she swore he could smell her arousal.

“There are a lot of things weighing upon me Crane, you should know that better than most.” She answered.

“It doesn’t have to be—weighing upon you that is. Allow me to shoulder the burden.” He says reaching his long arms around her, and pulling her to him.

“Ichabod.” She protests, but he barely hears her.

“Your hair is pretty.” He continues staring at the thick curls she’s pulled into a high bun.

“Thank you.” She breathes looking up through her lashes.

“Lieutenant, we remain friends do we not?” He asks linking his wrists around her waist, causing an unsolicited shiver to zip through her spine.      

“You know we do.” She acknowledged evenly.

“And are friends not allowed a hug, to offer one another the comfort of a mere embrace?” He

“I don’t hug my friends like this.” She insists, certain she would be on the ground if she wasn’t holding on to him.

He dips his mouth to her ear. “I am told that there is a first time for everything.” A sly seductive smile touches his lips.

A closed lipped grin develops before she has a chance to stop it. “Stop.” She says pushing him away and getting back to her produce. He steals a freshly rinsed peach, tearing nearly half of the flesh from the seed in one bite, and the only thing she can think of is how badly she wants to be the peach.    

“Shall we continue our discussion, now that Jeremy is joining you and Delton for the movie, I have some time.” He stated, before taking another bite.

“We already finished that discussion.”

He holds a hand up while swallowing his mouthful. “Abbie,” he petitioned stepping in front of her, “I am fully aware of the costs of maintaining this home. I understand your desire to hold separate accounts, fine, however, you are entitled to a portion of our earnings.”

“One, they’re your earnings, and two, I don’t need it, I’ll be fine.” She proclaimed.

He tosses the bare seed into the trash, and joins her at the sink to rinse his hands. “That you shall, because I intend to continue paying a portion of the monthly expenses.”

“No.” She looked him in the eyes, as an earnest plea surfaced in the center of her own. “No. Ichabod…this is the way I’ve always done it, I can handle paying my own bills, and taking care of myself, that was the _entire_ purpose of me going to the bank today.” She argues handing him a paper towel as he drips water everywhere.

“I know well of your capabilities, I am the last person you shall ever need to prove independence to. It was not that long ago when you took care of me as well as yourself, I have not forgotten.”

“I’m not trying to prove anything, and I wasn’t keeping score.” She clarified.  

“—Abbie…my son lives in this home, I have no intention of allowing you to bear the full weight of the financial burden.” He argued, watching as she loaded some of the filled Tupperware containers into the refrigerator. “It simply will not happen.”

“And I have no intention of accepting your money so, you don’t have much of a choice. Look,” Abbie said closing the refrigerator door. “You said you’re going to be spending as much time with Delton as you can, so when you see that he needs something, buy it, that settles that.” She brushes her hand together to signal problem solved, only to have Ichabod grab her by the arm and tug her over to him before she can escape.

“That settles nothing,” He snarls, but she detects a waggish tone just beneath his irritation. “Have I told you how positively maddening you are?” He asks, tilting his head towards hers.

“Once or twice.” She says batting her lashes.

“I have had it to here with you.” He growls with a vibration that causes her to hear the words leaving his chest.

“Really?” She says blushing, unable to subdue the weird sick attraction she feels when he’s frustrated. It isn’t why she’s refusing the money, but he’s so unrelentingly sexy, and adorable when he’s this way, she battles against pissing him off further just to see more of this side of him. It isn’t real anger, it’s different. One thing is clear, the haughty look of vexation on his face, coupled with his hand gripping her arm has everything to do with the moisture dampening her panties. She briefly flashes back to the moment they shared in the backyard, half wishing she’d never stopped him.    

“Up to here?” She says mocking his voice, lifting her hand to his imaginary marker. “Well let me know when you’ve had it up to here and we’ll talk.” She teases holding her hand higher. He’s holding back a smile, she can see it in his eyes, she wants to say something witty, and flirty to coax it out of him, but thinks better of it. The only thing she needs him to know is that he doesn’t have to worry about her, as he said, he already had enough to worry about. She wants to tell him right then, wants to just blurt it out but resolves to give the ground a chance to stop moving beneath him before she does. Seconds tick by and they hold the same position, him waiting for her to say something more, her waiting for him to release her arm, both of them knowing what happens when they stop talking. She’s licked her lips twice already, and if she does it again, he’ll swallow them whole.

“Crane.” Her quiet voice cuts through the tension.

“Yes.” He whispers, unknowingly lowering his head closer to hers.

She breathes, blinking for a moment battling between what she wants to say, _(den now),_ and what she knows she must. “My arm.” She finally utters.

He releases her, and she stands there with panic settling upon her as she realizes that she doesn’t know how she’s going to do this, be close to him, and not be with him, want him, and not have him. She did it before it sucked, she never wants to do it again.

“I can assure you this is not the end of this discussion.” He warned, watching her walk to the fridge to shuffle a few things around. She pops a few grapes into her mouth while listening to him belabor the point.

“Look I’m just trying to keep any kind of confusion down.” She says not quite having swallowed all of her food. Something about what she’s said rubs him wrong, he pulls his neck back unable to decide whether it’s the tone of her voice or her actual statement. After a moment he realizes it doesn’t matter because a seed’s been planted and he has no choice but to sow it.

“How do you mean confusion?” He asks eyeing her, as she keeps munching, oblivious.

“I mean confusion,” She says, “How else am I supposed to mean it?” She answers still organizing her fridge, it’s only when she turns around and meets his eyes that she realizes he’s on some bullshit.

“OhMyGod, please stop.” She states, all doe eyes, and innocence.

“Stop what? He bites, face hardening by the second.

“You _know_ what.”

“Where again did you say you’d gone today?” He probes.

“To run errands.” She states.

“What sort?”

“Regular errands, groceries, the bank, the pharmacy.”

“Where else?” He questions.

Abbie rests her hand on her hip. “Nowhere else, don’t you have a meeting?” She asks changing the subject, but he isn’t deterred. He can only imagine how many men have approached her since he saw her last, his stomach turns just thinking about it. He stares at her a moment before making his way to her.

“Ichabod?” She pleads noticing him gawking at her like she’s crazy.

“Abbie I did not say it before, because I feel that it goes without saying, nevertheless, I will say it now to be sure. You know well…that you have my heart.” He states, but by the expression on his face she would have thought he just told her he hated her, instead of loved her.

“Act accordingly.” He adds sharply through a soul piercing gaze. It sounds like an order, like he’s speaking to one of the officers who served under his command, but they both know it’s a plea. He wishes he could be different, less caring, knows in fact from past experiences that he actually is, only not with her. He’s dealing with too much to even begin to entertain the idea of her and another man.   He knows at this point she hasn’t, but before when they spoke he never even considered the possibility. Now she’s talking about keeping confusion down as if there was to be any confusion about who was the man around here. She knows him, can see on his face he suddenly has the idea that the reason she doesn’t want him to pay any bills is to avoid conflict if she chooses to have another man around. And just like that he’d gone from pretending to be mad to being mad as fuck. _Poor word choice Abbie_ , she inwardly scolded herself. He wasn’t a normal guy, he was of very high intelligence and at times heard things differently than most people. She blames herself because jealousy is one of his weaknesses, and she knows how to protect him from it, she’s normally more careful about the way she phrases things. She looks up at him, and knows exactly what he’s feeling. Because after not hearing from him all week she’s imagined every possibility. Of course she knew the idea of him sleeping with someone, namely Katrina, so soon after their split was terribly unlikely. Even still in the morning when she woke without hearing the sound of his voice, that thought would inevitably creep into her head. At least now she could tell herself that it was morning sickness, and not those thoughts that sent her hurdling toward the bathroom.

“Ichabod.” She says sitting her bowl of grapes on the countertop behind her. If he had a clue how much she loved him, how sick the thought of another man touching her made her feel, he would _never_ worry.

“You don’t have to worry about that.” She whispered, leaning back against the cabinet.

The urge to touch her is nearly insurmountable, he looks down at the ring gracing her finger, and feels a bit of relief that she hasn’t taken it off. Before he can stop himself her hand is inside of his, while he runs his thumb over her diamond.

“You’ve kept it on.” He notices.

“Yeah it’s…easier. I haven’t.” She takes a deep breath. “I haven’t told anyone, I mean I mentioned to Kayley that we split when she called to invite us to dinner but, I didn’t go into any detail, I just told her I would call when I had more time, and I haven’t.” Ichabod rolled his eyes, that explained the several calls and voice messages he’d received from Bren.

“So no, I haven’t taken off my ring, and quite honestly…I’m not ready to.” She thinks of offering excuses as to why, but decided the reasoning didn’t matter. “I’m just not.” She reaffirms slowly pulling her hand away.  

“Good.”

“Good that I can’t take off the rings you put on my finger, or good that I haven’t really told anyone?”

“Both.” He replied, clasping his hands behind his back.

She’s curious how things are going with his new roommate, and even though she’s 99.9 percent sure that nothing’s happened between them the .1 percent is killing her. Her pride firm as ever refuses to let her ask.

“You know you’re the one who’s actually living in the house with another woman, a woman you used to be married to, a woman you used to love.” She observed.

“—A woman you’ve sent me to.” He jabs, and immediately regrets.   For one moment he wanted her to feel the uncertainty that he does, but the look on her face changes his mind. Abbie. Though I may no longer reside with you, every square inch of my heart still does.” He answers quietly.

“You know what you don’t owe me any explanations.” She says softly, still a little put off by his comment.

“Regardless of whether it is owed or not, it is the truth.” The beeping from the watch on his wrist reminded him that he needed to leave for his meeting. He looks back to her, wanting to say more to make it clear that she was the only woman he was interested in.

“Go to your meeting.” She said.

Ichabod reaches into his wallet and plucks a few bills from it. “For the cinema.” He says extending his hand.

“I got it.” She responds, flatly declining his funds.

His neck stretches toward her, and she can tell he’s about to get pissed off all over again. “Very well.” He relents, much to her surprise. She watches as he shoves the bill back into his pocket and makes for the door.

Ichabod stopped in the driveway pulling the boys aside. He gave Delton money to pay for the movie and concessions, leaving exact instructions on how to do so before Abbie had a chance.

“Remember this is a good deal of money, plenty to pay for the movie, popcorn, and still have funds left over. What _is_ left, you split with your brother, understood?” Ichabod stated stuffing the bills in Delton’s shirt pocket.

“Cool, thanks Mr—I mean dad.” Delton smiled, stilled getting used to things.

“Oh do not rush to thank me just yet, both of you will work to earn it. I will go over your lists of duties this week.” He tells them.

 

* * *

 

It’s been nearly three weeks since he’s had any time to devote to business, and if he’s honest he didn’t have the time now, but there were a few matters that could no longer be delayed.   He keyed in the address that Perry had given him, and set off to White Plains. When his elevator arrives at the floor of his meeting there is a young brunette in a grey skirt suit standing outside of it waiting to greet him.

“Good afternoon Mr. Crane.” She smiles extending her hand. He pushes his forward.

“Please to make your acquaintance Miss,”

“Kelly, Noreen Kelly.” She states. “I am your administrative assistant.” She smiled, blushing a little. He’s even more handsome in person she thinks.

“Beg pardon?” And utterly confused, and taken aback Ichabod stated. She flashed a bright smile as if he were joking and continued on. “Please allow me to show you to your office Mr. Crane, right this way.” She said leading him through the office, pausing quickly to introduce him and tell him the position of various people along the way, all of which who seemed to know his name, but none of which he’d actually ever met. Mr. Chambers wanted to have a brief meeting with you prior to moving to the conference room.” “Your office sir, she said opening the door to a room that appeared four times the size of his office at the University. He shook off his disorientation enough to thank her before she closed the door. He glared across the room at Perry who stood grinning, crossed arms in front of the full length windows that spanned the wall.

Ichabod couldn’t begin to hide the edge in his tone. “What have you done?”

“We talked about this remember, and hey,” He said holding his hand up, “I let you have the big office.”

“You said something small, a place in which we could meet and conduct our business affairs, a few, I repeat _a few_ extra hands.” Ichabod said sitting his bag down.

“This is small. Ish.”

Ichabod’s mind was all over the place as he headed back to Sleepy Hollow. He couldn’t blame Perry, he hadn’t been in contact in quite some time. Initially it was Ichabod’s idea, the funds generated from this new application could be used to improve the quality of life of millions across the globe. It was far more in depth and extensive than the one they’d developed before, one that Perry hoped would turn the world of social media on its head, only this time they were going to retain control over it. They’d spoken of it, and had decided to move forward, but Perry had done so on a much larger scale than Ichabod had ever expected. Now there was an office with overhead cost, filled with employees, people depending upon their success for their livelihood. Of course Perry had argued that every person he’d hired would make the probability of them achieving said success that much greater, but to Ichabod it felt like more pressure. In all he couldn’t be angry with Perry, his aims were pure. In the time since they’d sold the company it became clear to him that money wasn’t the end all be all, it wasn’t a true source of anything worth having. He began thinking more and more about Ichabod’s plan as he sought a way to leave a mark, to do something to make the world a better place when he left it. Ichabod knew this had more to do with his father than anything, the heralded surgeon who never missed an opportunity to inform Perry how unaffected all of humanity was by his presence, but he hoped that in the process Perry would prove something to himself as well.

He pulled off of the highway to stop by the mall before heading home, and messaged Bren to set up a lunch date for the following day. Back at the office he carried on with Perry and Ethan as if nothing was out of the ordinary in his personal life, inquiries about Abbie’s wellbeing were met with confident assurances that she was quite well. It wasn’t a lie, she did seem to be faring well, at least comparable to him, he omitted large significant details, but he had no intention of sharing their private life with everyone.

 

The look on Abbie’s face when he came to retrieve Jeremy informed him of the trouble he was in. She was as mad as a hornet and he knew instantly he was seconds away from being stung. He was fine with it, she was worth it a thousand times over.

“I take it the film was unsatisfactory?” He asks, pretending he has no idea why she’s riled up.

“You’re full of shit.” She said, unamused. “So is this what I can expect, you’re going to bring them up to lie to me?” She bites barring her arms across her chest.

“Lie to you? Absolutely not, where are they, get them both down here.” He says feigning outrage.

“No, you’re not disciplining them for doing exactly what you told them to do.” She states.

“I never told them to lie.” He replies.

“Well as soon as we made it into the building Jeremy claimed he had to use the bathroom, and Delton opted to wait outside the door, but he didn’t, and by the time we made it out of the bathroom he’d purchased our tickets and snacks.”

“What is that intoxicating smell?” He said sniffing in the direction of the kitchen.

“Don’t change the subject.” She says.

“I’m sorry I fail to see the problem in that scenario, it sounds to me that he was simply being thoughtful.” He can’t believe how angry she is, if she’s this upset over the movies he wonders how angry she will be when she realizes he’d just phoned his accountant and instructed him to pay off the remaining balance on her mortgage.

“Too bad you weren’t being thoughtful when you gave a one-hundred dollar bill to a nine year old.” She stated, as Ichabod pulled off his suit jacket, and headed into the kitchen in search of the dish filling the house with such a heavenly aroma.

He comes face to face with her scrumptious pot roast resting on top of the stove. She notices that he’s lost a few pounds, much like herself, it would be a lie to say she hadn’t made it with him in mind.

“It needs to cool.” She stated. “Ichabod.” She calls attempting to redirect him to the matter at hand.

“It was an allowance.” He explained, turning to face her.

“He could have been robbed, what if someone saw him with that money and thought wow, here’s an easy target!” She says raising her voice.   Ichabod studies her, her hands are fisted and resting on her hips, while she stares up at him through a wild glare. Her brows are lowered and pursed together, she looks angry, but something tells him it has less to do with what transpired at the movies and more to do with something else. A small smirk develops across his face as he regards her.

“Oh I’m funny, does it look like I’m joking with you.” She blasts, but inside she can’t help but soften against his amusement. He smiles taking a sip of his drink. He places the cup on the table and closes the space between them.

“Perhaps you should say what is truly bothering you.” He states, looming over her.   Her arms cross in front of her defensively.

“I’m have no idea what you’re talking about, I just told you what’s bothering me. You.”

“I believe you think that my assisting in payment for a movie is what is bothering you, but clearly it is not.” He declared rolling up his sleeves, and loosening his tie.

Abbie’s eyes bugged. “Really! So what is, why don’t you tell me what my problem is.”

He winces, and smirks at her, eyes asking do you really want to know.

“Go on.” She challenges.

“Do you recall when you started a shouting match with Miss Jenny when she ate your last chocolate almond iced cream bar?” He asked tearing into one of her dinner rolls. Abbie’s mouth fell open, memories of she and Jenny nearly placing each-other in headlocks sifted through her mind, followed closely by memories of gripping the headboard as Ichabod thrust into her from behind. She shuddered a little just to think of it. He was just arriving home and came running in after hearing the commotion, managing to grab Abbie just in time. After she tried to break free, he threw her over his shoulder, carried her up the stairs, and tossed her onto their bed. She attempted to jump up but he pushed her back down and pinned her by the wrists.

“Calm yourself.” He’d stated.

“She pushed me first!” Abbie grunted, still struggling to get free.

“You have been short with everyone in this house for the last two days and it stops now! I heard everything, you are going to go down there and you are going to apologize to Miss Jenny this instant.” He’d ordered.

“No way in hell I’m apologizing to her, all she had to do was tell me and I would have bought more. She’s fucking inconsiderate.” Abbie had shouted, hoping somehow Jenny could hear her.

“And so you admit you are willing to physically attack your very own sister over an iced cream bar.” He stated simply to let her hear how ridiculous it all sounded. His words broke through to her and even though she was still pissed they’d started laughing about it just a few seconds later. He released her, scooped her up into his lap and cradled her to his chest while placing kisses against her head.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just feel so…ugh, stressed, I don’t know, I had a shit day, and I _needed_ that almond crunch bar, it was going to make everything better.” She’d reasoned.

His lips rumbled against the skin covering her neck. “Would you like it if I tried my hand at it…at making it better?” After locking the door he proceeded to alleviate every single drop of stress from her body multiple times over. Both of them collapsed to the mattress an hour later, Ichabod falling to his back while Abbie lay upon her belly. He pulled her into his arms, and dropped his lips against her face before resting his head against his pillow.

He looked down at her dragging his fingertips up her spine. “Apple.” He mumbled, just as her eyes were closing.

“Hmm.” She intoned, inches from sleep.

“Is it better?” He questioned.

“Oh my God.” She sighed, unable to begin to explain.

“Very well. Now go apologize to your sister.” He stated.

“Baaabbby.” She groaned.

“Abbie.” He spoke through a low tone.

Abbie pulled her eyes open and looked over at the body stretched alongside her. A sheet was draped loosely around him, his lower abdominal muscles rising slightly with every breath, and those eyes looking at her with more love than she knew what to do with. A sheepish smile covered her face as her heart filled with joy.

“Okay.” She’d sighed pushing herself up from the bed. She remembered everything that had happened that day, he was right—then, but now was a different story, this wasn’t sexual frustration rearing its head, this was him inserting his will into areas that she’d asked him to stay out of.          

“You have got to be kidding me.” She snorted. “You think this is about sex?”

“Partially.” He answers, knowing well the way she gets when she’s gone too long without it.

“I’m insulted. You couldn’t be more wrong.” She argued.

“That’s not all you are.” Ichabod stated dropping his voice as low as he could.

“Oh don’t flatter yourself.” She swallowed taking a small step back, causing Ichabod to chuckle.

He moved forward placing a hand to her hip. “The truth of it is, I know you.” He informed her. “In fact,” He slid his fingers down dragging them along the hem of her dress. “I would be willing to wager that if I slipped my fingertips inside of your undergarments at this very moment, they will be covered with the telltale signs of your desire.” Abbie’s pulse doubled, as her nostrils flared wildly. He knew too well how to get her open, her eyes fell from his eyes and studied the floor.

A half nervous, half disgusted laugh crept from her lips. “Screw you.” She said quietly.

 _Please_ , he thought to say, but refrained. “Abbie look at me.” He whispered. Just as she found the courage to face him, he pulled her closer and sealed her form to his. Letting her feel that she wasn’t alone in her arousal.

“Tell me what you need, tell me the truth.” He pleaded.

“I did” She breathed causing him to shake his head with disappointment.

“But I admit there is more. I _am_ angry.” She admitted. “I’m angry because I’m trying to remember how I did things before, and I can’t. Paying my bills, that one’s easy, that’s the one thing that I can remember how to do without you, I can take care of myself _in_ that way. But going to sleep, and worse waking up, or eating, even breathing, none of it feels right or normal anymore….I can’t remember how to do those things without you.” She confessed. “I miss you. I miss you.” She declared, raising her palms to his chest.

“It is your choice to miss me Apple…you do not have to.” He told her.

“I do.”

“You do not.”

For a moment she considers what he’s saying, perhaps there is another way, but then she thinks about Jeremy, about the baby.

“I. Do.” She reiterated. His eyes close as his forehead falls against hers. He doesn’t want to press her, to plead a case that she’d already adjourned until further notice. His fingers slide up her body and stretch around the nape of her neck, as his thumbs cross over the stony jewelry adorning her lobes.

“Nice earrings.” He whispers.

She breathes a quiet laugh. “The love of my life gave me these earrings…I never got the chance to thank him.” She responds.

“How would you—thank him, if given the chance?” He quietly asked.

He feels her move up his frame until her mouth is opening against his. He waste no time in meeting the passion of her kiss, and Abbie can’t help but feel every part of him. His movements, arms twining around her back, hands gripping any portion of her they pleased. She wonders how he manages to hold her this way, like she’s boneless and fine china at the same time. His hands are surveying every valley and peak, and his low growl seems to free one of the most breathtaking moans he’s ever heard. That quickly she’s backed up against the counter, while he leans over her sucking the very meat of her lips.

“I miss you too.” He murmured between kisses. “My love for you is ungovernable. Forgive me for my actions, I did instruct our son to pay for the expenses of the film. I…I merely wish to ensure that you are taken care of, that Delton is taken care of. I worry that you might want or need of something and be without, I seek not to frustrate or control you, but to provide. It is a privilege Abbie, I feel privileged to be able to provide for you. If you want something, I care not what it is, it is important to me that you have it.” He licked his lips growing brazen, reaching down and sliding his digits up her dress until his palms rested over the cotton panties covering her rear.

“And if you need, or require…”, he placed a soft, sensual, kiss to her lips allowing his hands finish the sentence by squeezing her ass, and pressing her against the bulge in his pants. A low hum sprang from Abbie’s lips, she’d never been more tempted to spread her legs in her life, she knows if they were alone nothing would stop her from bussin’ it wide open in the middle of this kitchen.  

“Do you understand?” He whispered. Abbie nodded her head not trusting her voice. “Call and I shall come, without fail, no matter the hour.” He promised. His voice drops lower. “Even if you merely wish me to place my face in it.”

He glances toward the den and she knows what he’s thinking before he opens his mouth.

“The boys.” She says, preemptively before he can even ask.

“I need but a moment.” He claimed, before taking her lips again. “I miss the way you taste.” He mumbled, dropping his tongue into her mouth. Abbie was losing all grip on reality, his slow, passionate kiss and low seductive tone was planting something inside of her that grew with the very echo of his voice. Settling in and creating a want, an ache in her so deep she knew that only he could reach it.

“I want that.” She admitted. “But it’s…too risky.” He pulled his hands from beneath her dress, letting them fall to her thighs.

Footsteps rumbling down the stairs caused them to break apart. The kids came pouring in excitedly telling him about the movie they’d watched earlier. He listened while they went on about dinosaurs, stealing glances at Abbie throughout their theatrical displays of excitement. Though he and Jeremy weren’t officially invited to dinner, it seemed a given that they were staying. The boys set the table, while Ichabod removed the lemonade from the fridge, and poured drinks. Abbie dished up plates, and the four of them bowed their heads in prayed blessings over their food, Ichabod took a peek around the table, and couldn’t help but say a special prayer of his own. After dinner he slipped out to the car to retrieve the gifts he’d stopped and purchased for everyone on the way home. He’d only stopped with wallets for the boys in mind. It had dawned on him when he gave them their allowance, that they had nothing to keep hold of it. But he saw something in the window, placed upon the frame of a mannequin that seemed to be built for his Abbie. He thoroughly enjoyed the negligees she wore at times, things he at first thought were for him, before realizing that they weren’t always an invitation, sometimes she just enjoyed the feel of them upon her skin. She managed to loosen one strap from the ribboned box before he cautioned her.  

“It would be best if you open this later.” He advised.

“Oh?” She stated raising her eyebrows. His naughty smirk, let her know that the contents were most likely not kid friendly.

“Okay.” She agreed, returning it to the table with a small grin. While Abbie cleared the dishes Ichabod ushered the boys upstairs to do a little quiet reading. Delton knew the routine well, Ichabod and Abbie required a half hour of reading every day, he and Jeremy sat up in his room tackling their books while Ichabod went back down to help Abbie.

“When this timer expires you may both stop, but not a moment before.” Ichabod stated placing his phone on Delton’s nightstand.

He entered the kitchen to find Abbie standing beside the table holding the negligee he’d purchased her.

“It’s beautiful, and very, very, sexy.” She said looking up at him. Thank you.” She added smoothing the sheer black fabric between her fingers.

“Did you read the note?” He asked, walking over to her. She dug in the box in search of the note she’d somehow missed.

“Wake with me.” She read aloud. He could see her thinking it over. Her fingers came up to her mouth and covered at her bottom lip.

“A selfish gift I know, but when I stopped in the mall to procure their wallets and saw it in the window, I couldn’t help myself. I did however envision you opening it later, alone in your bedroom, sometime after the owls had awoken and the children had fallen to slumber.” He lugged his arms around her. “I imagined you slipping into it, in far too great and exacting detail.” He smiled. “I hoped it might compel you to forward me an invitation to assist you in removing it.” He swallowed. “Especially when you thought back upon everything that happened today.”  

Abbie’s brows tilted down and in. “What happened today?” She asked quizzically.

He tightened his arms around her and lifted her from the ground. “Come and see.” He whispered, walking her toward the den.

“But the”

“—Reading.” He stated knowing her hesitation. “For a full half hour.”   She should have stopped him, should have stuck to her guns, and turned him down, but every part of her needed this love from him.   She was overwhelmed, and just being with him made everything feel better. He ushered her inside, immediately locking the door and leaning back against it. He drew her to him, ravishing her with a soft and loving kiss, but it’s only seconds before his concupiscence is bleeding through. He grows more urgent with every tug he takes from the full flesh covering her mouth, and every pass of her tongue across his. His hands are on the prowl, moving about her as if he’d been struck blind and his only chance at seeing her body was through their touch. She can see a certain reverence in his eye every time he gazes at her between kisses. His widened stance is proving to be both a gift and a curse, lowering him to create a shorter distance to her lips, though greatly reducing the space in his constricted trousers. His digits extended, digging into her flesh, as he gathered up the hem of her dress and slipped it over her head. He quickly discards it, letting it fall to the floor as careless and forgotten as everything else in the world that wasn’t the woman before him.

He knew that he couldn’t have her, not here, not this way. He could, and most assuredly would please her, but the satisfaction of his desire would have to hold until tonight. He lost parts of himself when he was inside of her, the world blurred and she became its sum total. A place so wondrous and abundant in joy, it held him so perfectly that he never wanted to leave. He couldn’t go there this way. She feels his massive hands rubbing and lifting her frame, mouth covering hers, while he’s simultaneously trying to free her from her panties. A lusty moan fills her mouth as the substantial mass beneath his trousers thrust against her flesh. Her hands instinctually seek it out, fingers cupping it while she vocalizes how bad she wants it. She hears and sees the heavy breath he takes in but doesn’t notice if the air is ever expelled. He stills her hand, and refocuses his attention upon helping her from her bottoms. He only manages to get them halfway down before he’s bent and over her shoulder gazing at her ass, rubbing and lodging his digits around it. Abbie smiles, and takes his lips to refocus his attention upon her.

“You know, there is a person attached to that ass.” She kids.

“Forgive me,” He smiles realizing he’d gotten swept up. “I adore you, you know that. It’s just…struth it is the most spectacular arse I have ever seen.”

“Well since you put it that way.” She smiles, jetting her fingers through his beard, while he preys upon her lips. Even with everything happening between them, she’s comforted by the fact that nothing’s changed in the way that he touches her, he still does it like he knows he has the right to. Like he’d never left, and more importantly like she’d never asked him to. Her hands make a play for his belt, but he quickly stops her again.

She leans back enough so that he can see the question in her eyes.  

“It is best that one of us remains cloaked.” His eyes scan the length of her figure. “I would be a fool to ever suggest that it be you.” He states, before leaning forward and speaking quietly as if he doesn’t want the books to hear his words. “I want you naked, bare.” She reaches her hands behind her back, unfastens her strapless bra and tosses it aside. She knows this silence, she’s heard it before, and even if she had never encountered it she needed only look to his eyes for an explanation of what it meant.

“Anointed.” He says quietly, admiring her unclothed beauty. His eyes roam over her generous breast, how perfect and attentive they appear before him, sitting up like a preacher’s wife during a Sunday sermon. He can feel the water filling his mouth as his eyes continue down her body, trim and strong though the middle, yet possessing the most perfectly thickened, succulent, hips and thighs he had ever seen. “Highly…highly, anointed.” He repeats. “Come here.”  

“Come get me.” She teased. “Waiting for you to show me what you wanted me to see.” She added taking a step backward. His eyebrow raises and he’s seconds from running upstairs in search of the prophylactic they’d procured months ago when she’d missed her pill.  

Instead he takes a giant step forward to close the distance between them, seamlessly lifting her up. Her legs locked around him as he walked over to the couch and laid her across it. With no time lost he’s falling over her to close his lips around her firm nipple.

“Ouch!” She exclaimed quickly pushing him back.

“Forgive me.” He pulled back, confused and somewhat embarrassed. He’d suckled her much harder before, she usually liked it so much she pushed his head more firmly against her.

“Gently.” She breathed, growing a tiny smile from her winced expression.

“Yes.” He agreed, eyes still wide with wonder. He returned softer, more breathy flutters and flaps of his tongue across her nipple than full suckles. It wasn’t precisely as he planned, this type of love took a little more time, but her heavy breaths let him know how much she liked it. His lips sunk against her skin travelling leaving kisses along the route to his destination. He delves his tongue inside of her belly button, before continuing on his path. Abbie could never get over the look in his eyes when he parted her thighs. Every single time he looked like a man long lost in the desert who had just stumbled upon an oasis. She used to think he had a problem, some sort of sexual addiction, staring at her down there as he did, dragging his fingers across it, all the while making those little noises in the back of his throat. That was before their lives were bared to one another, and unlike him she paid special attention to the way he interacted with other women. Since then she seen it for what it was, she was his perversion, he wasn’t this way before, this loving, this caring, this filthy. This lust and ravenous desire was as unique to him as this new insatiable sexual appetite was to her, berthed purely out of their love for one another. He looked up from between her thighs with all the affection the world had to offer in his eyes. She reached forward to stroke his hair just as he pushed his wet tongue between her lips with a sweetness that flopped her head back. Soft breaths gathered in her throat as she twisted and wound herself against his mouth countering his motion. He moaned against her inner folds, slightly raising his lips to tell her how much he missed it, how ‘fucking good’ she tasted. If he had any idea how much she enjoyed him talking with his mouth full, he would have said more. He lapped away at her with diligent stiff strokes and soft oscillations around her clit, but he wanted more. It was far too neat, and he liked it messy.   He wouldn’t be satisfied until every single strand of hair in his beard was dripping with her wetness.

“Come.” He said, grabbing her, and quickly flipping positions, his head now laying back against the corner of the couch where hers previously was. He reached forward gathering her up by her hips and sitting her on top of his face, one of her knees rested upon the couch arm while the other was perched over the back of it butting up against the wall behind it. She knew that he had her, that he would never let her fall but she reached out anyway barely gripping a small book laden wall shelf, while her other hand tightened in his locks. She met the waver of his tongue with rolls of her hips, feeling her rapidly approaching release rounding through her core. Her nearly inaudible cries to God, only served to ratchet up his intensity, the only deliverance that she would fine this day would come under the lay of his tongue. She couldn’t decide if it was worse that someone was capable of making her feel this way, or that he was able to do it so quickly and with such ease. Like making her come was a simple as watering a plant to him. He brought her to the precipice of her climax in just a few short minutes, squeezing her shaking thighs to hold her in place as he picked up the pace. His tongue flittered, and drug around her tiny nub with a speed and pressure that threatened to turn her world on end. When her trembles grew fierce he pressed her against his face until he felt her bones and sucked like he thought water from the fountain of youth would come pouring out of her clit.

_Don’t scream, don’t scream, don’t scream!_

Her head fell forward against the wall, replacing the hand that left it in favor of joining the other tangled in his hair, short gaspy breaths sputtered from her lips as she came, shaking and trembling against him like a woman suffering hypothermic shock, but Abbie, in that moment couldn’t have felt more warmth, love, or tenderness. She managed to pull her eyes open enough peer down at his head firmly entrenched between her legs, she knew she’d made a mistake asking him to leave. Who would give this up, how could she live without him, without this intimacy? Every muscle in her body was useless, but she didn’t worry, he had her, he always did. He kept his mouth on her for a moment, dotting kisses over her sweet spot before lowering her to his lap. She rested her head against his chest, enfolded her in his arms, as they caught their breath. The timer of his watch yelled and screamed letting him know that twenty minutes had passed since he’d instructed the boys to read. Abbie groaned playfully turning up to kiss his lips.

“You set a timer.” She chuckled lazily, trying to force herself from his arms. He caught her arms and pulled her into a soft kiss. The kiss that was usually reserved for when he wanted to show her he loved her, right after he finished fucking her like he hated her. She indulged in it, letting it wash over her, before leaning back and cupping his chin. She shook her head as if to say job well done, his eyes went shy, as she placed one final peck across his lips.

“The timer was a necessary requirement.”   He said. “I could have stayed there for years with absolutely no objections.”

“Careful, don’t want to give me any ideas.” She joked, fastening her bra. Ichabod rose to his feet, adjusting his length, before ambling over to help her with her dress.

“Oh I aim to give you so very much more than that.” He stated slyly, bones still wracked with want.

Abbie smoothed her dress out. “You know, It didn’t have to be all about me, we had time.”

His hand found hers. “If you wish to please me, do as I propositioned in my note. Summon me later, when you are ready for bed, and…wake with me in the morrow.” He pleaded.

She thought about what he was saying, knowing fully how hard it was to let him go the first time. She wasn’t sure that she was strong enough to do it again. If he came to stay the night, she would want him there every night, and she’s certain he already knows as much. But being as love drunk as she was at the moment, she couldn’t form her lips to tell him no.

“Okay.” She agreed, raising up to kiss him.   She could see from his smile, he thought this was the first step of them getting back together. “I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

“Agreed you will call,” he said wrapping his limbs around her. “But you have not a prayer of being ready.”

 _Did everyone in the 18 th century talk as much shit as you_? She thinks, offering a small grin. “And how is that?”

Ichabod voice dropped to an octave so low she had no choice but to believe him. “Nothing could begin to prepare you for what I intend upon doing to you tonight. In fact my note was written in error, I know not how you intend upon waking at all when I have no intention of allowing you a moment’s sleep.” He whispered, digging his fingers into her thighs.

She knows he means it. She tries to give them both a way out. “Are you sure you want to stay the whole night. I mean what about Jeremy?”

“Apple.” He said caressing her cheek. “Nothing matters more to me than you…say it.” He requested, looking into her eyes. “Say it.”

“Nothing matters more.” She repeated in a soft mumble.

“Than what?” He asked. Her upturned eyes glossed over as her lashes fluttered a few times.

“Than me.” She said in a voice matching her stature.

     

* * *

   

Hours later Ichabod tip-toes out of Jeremy’s room after seeing him to sleep. Katrina’s on the couch enthralled with reality television programming. As excited as Jeremy was after spending time with Abbie, and Delton, he mentioned nothing of it to his mother. It was almost as if he knew it wouldn’t be well received. Beyond that Ichabod noticed that he did not often engage her, unless she initiated conversation.

“He’s sleeping already?” Katrina asked smiling up at Ichabod.

“He is. He had a very long day.” He answers with a smile.

“I am so pleased that the two of you were able to spend some time alone.” She was even more pleased that she had time alone to work on a few of her spells. “It is important for a boy to have such time with his father. What trouble did the two of you manage to stir up?”

“Actually, we spent a fair amount of the day with Abbie, and Delton.”   He responded. Her television show and even the memory of it blurred from her mind. She noticed things, like his change of dress and chipper disposition when he arrived home, but somehow she didn’t suspect that it had anything to do with Abbigail. Ichabod had been so angry with her, and disappointed when they’d left her house that night, she doubted he would ever forgive her for ending their affair. Her temper flared now hearing that the cause of his vastly improved mood was not due to time with their son, but Abigail Mills.

“I was unaware that you and Miss Mills still spoke to one another. I thought that your were angry with her.” She inquired.

“Before earlier today we had not been in communication, however we share a child in Delton, and Jeremy holds a certain connection with her, there will never be a time when we completely cease speaking with one another.”

“Share a child in Delton?” She repeats, this is what she hears the clearest.

“She is adopting him.” He offers.

“Forgive me Ichabod I fail to see how that involves you, or Jeremy for that matter.”

Ichabod closes the book he was beginning to read. “I am certain that by now you have deduced how special Delton is to me, barring that, the woman I love is adopting a child, and you fail to see how that is important to me.”

His words stung, she knew that he still loved Abigail, but to hear him say it in way that made her think that those feeling wouldn’t change, hurt. He hadn’t spoken of her in a full week. When Jeremy called to speak with her, he left the room. She thought he was finally beginning to put her behind him. “Is it more important than your own son?”

“He _is_ my son.” He stated, going from mildly annoyed to incensed.

“I understand that you and Abigail had thought of parenting him together, however after Jeremy was returned to us I believed that you would join me in devoting yourself to our son, your _true_ flesh and blood. He has suffered Ichabod, his care demands your full attention. This is the sole purpose for which Abigail left you, it is unfair to ask him to suffer more while you play father to her orphan.”

“—Enough!” Katrina jumps at his tone because she didn’t see it coming. He’s never been especially quick to anger, and she realizes instantly she’s struck a nerve. He’s looking at her now like he has no idea who she is, and she laments losing her temper.

“I am uncertain of whether you are ill or weary from the day, but it matters not, hear me, Delton is my _son_ , as much as the boy sleeping in the other room is my _son_. If you ever again imply that he is anything less or refer to him as anything but, whatever friendship we share will be no more. I am his father, he is my child, and that is the whole of it.”

Katrina was certain she could see fire in Ichabod’s eyes, and steam pouring from his ears, in all the years she’d known him, he’d never been more upset with her. “Forgive me.” She stated, trying to smooth things over.

“I simply hadn’t realized how close you’d grown with the child.” She explained, making certain she remembered not to press him on the issue of Delton again. “I pray you excuse my confusion, and accept my most heartfelt apology, I did not intend my remark in a disparaging manner, I only worried for Jeremy’s wellbeing.”

“As do I, however I have more than one child to consider, and you will do well to remember that.” He reminds her.

“I understand, and I _am_ sorry.” She apologizes.

“We shall speak of it no more.” He decides. They sit and talk for a while Katrina showing Ichabod some of the homes she’s been looking at online. The cabin is such a ways away from everything, she hopes that they can move as soon as possible. They’re large, the homes she’s selected, but he doesn’t nitpick, he wants her to have the home of her choosing.

“I shall call the realtor first thing in the morrow, and we will begin the search.” He declares.

“Honestly?!” She exclaims nearly jumping on him.

“Of course.” He returns. Katrina eyes him, noticing that he keeps staring at his phone.

“Are you expecting to hear from someone?” She asked.

“Yes.” He replied, looking up, even though of part of him began to worry he wouldn’t.   He remembers the hesitation in Abbie’s eyes and wonders if perhaps she’s changed her mind. She says she misses him but each second his phone remains silent causes him to worry. Perhaps living a life without him in it isn’t as difficult as she imagined it would be.

 


	24. Hearts Like Ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello All, thank you for reading! I want to alert you all that this chapter contains Rape, and Attempted Rape. This chapter also got away from me a bit, and I go off in unnecessary directions a little, maybe a lot, but I was just writing and having fun telling the story, bare with me. I'd written this chapter before the character of Sophie was brought on, there's a character mentioned briefly named Sophia, and I didn't feel like going back through it to change the name (cause I'm lazy), but it is a different character. I will post Chapter 25 asap, by the end of the weekend for sure. Please forgive grammatical errors, I will go back through and fix them when I have more time. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Abraham nudged the heavy door open with his knee, the fingers of both hands fastened around two overstuffed black trash bags. One by one he lifted them over his head and tossed them into the dumpster. It was quiet out, the diner was closed, and Janet and Murray had both gone home for the night. He hears a clattering across the alleyway and spins to investigate the noise. He breathes a sigh of relief when a black cat darts out into the darkness. It was a night similar to this, in this very alley that lent itself to what would become his good fortune. He was walking about trying to remain out of sight as he’d always done, when he noticed a man being attacked by a tandem of thieves. After coming to his aid the older man insisted that he come in and have a meal, “a cup of coffee at least” he’d said. Coffee turned to soup, and soup turned to a sandwich, and before long he found himself offered room and board in exchange for labor. The upstairs room was small, and the labor wasn’t exactly what he had been bred for, but it was a start. He couldn’t go back to his home in the woods, he wouldn’t. He knew that there were people searching for him, Miss Mill’s sister Jennifer had nearly discovered him on one occasion, but he very narrowly escaped.

After locking the door and stopping the light, Abraham walked up the rickety old steps to his room. There was but one small window and a little lamp that sat on his bedside stand, yet he was grateful for it. He pulled back the blanket and slid into the bed that seemed barely big enough to hold his frame. He stared into the darkness thinking about the life he once had, the one he had now, and everything that happened in between. If he were honest there had always been glaring indications of how precisely how good, or bad he could become. He could vaguely remember being happy, laughing and playing, but when his mother passed away she took every bit of that happiness with her. At first he couldn’t understand it, he was but four years old, and his memories of her faded as an old star amongst the galaxy, without anyone ever realizing. Til this day he was left with fractured, incomplete clips of random moments that his brain or soul had held to for reasons he couldn’t name. Sitting with her beneath a tree on the edge of their estate, watching her lay out a set of china, little things that probably didn’t matter much while they were happening became his entire portrait of her. He remembered being heartbroken, that much he recalled. He remembered his father being so overcome with grief that he went away to oversee his business ventures in America. Winter had come and gone three times before he finally returned one summer. It was as though Abraham was meeting him for the first time. That was also when Elizabeth or Bette as he called her came into his life, he wondered what would have become of him had she not. He shuddered to imagine what she would have thought of what he had actually become. He was lonely in a way that most couldn’t understand, but somehow she did. Sure he’d been surrounded by staff, but even as a boy he was Master Abraham to them, and nothing he ever did was considered wrong. To her he was simply Abraham, which quickly became Bramble, the nickname she called him claiming that anyone brave enough to get past his thorny exterior would be rewarded with all of the sweetness inside of him. Being ten years older than him, ten years younger than his father she became the bridge between their distance.   He could still recall when she and father arrived at the estate. Every worker, from the land-steward to the footman stood proudly out in front of the home.

She was breathtaking, not in the watered down sense that people often use it, but literally, men and women alike often lost their breath upon meeting her. It was always her beauty that did it, he thought, her large honey colored eyes, and neatly gathered curls that fell down her back. Perhaps some of the surprise could have been due to the light caramel skin covering her lithe frame, but he wouldn’t have known it then. His father was completely smitten with her that much was clear for any and all to see. He had asked her mother, and uncle, Mr. Cabot for her hand in marriage upon the conclusion of a visit he’d had at their estate. Mr. Cabot was the son-n-law of a man that had mentored Abraham’s father and also counseled him in many of his business ventures. She liked him, but at first was reluctant to accept his proposal for a multitude of reasons. She was sheltered, having held a privileged, protected life from much of the world, while at the same time having an understanding of what many women of color had to endure. The idea of moving to England frightened her, almost as much as the idea of being someone’s wife. Still his father courted her diligently, visiting with her whenever he could take a break from business. A few months after her seventeenth birthday she agreed to be his bride, on the condition that he be patient with her when it came to her becoming his wife. He agreed, and they were immediately married in a small ceremony consisting only of immediate family. Being a mother seemed to come naturally to her, from the moment they arrived she looked after Abraham. But she was nineteen and a half before she came to her husband’s bed.

Elizabeth was born free, her mother, born into slavery was a gifted chef who had studied cuisine all over the world. Mr. and Mrs. Cabot had first discovered her at Mr. and Mrs. Monroe’s plantation in the state of Virginia. Mrs. Cabot was staunchly opposed to slavery, so much so that her husband had to spend a great deal of time convincing her to accompany him on his trip.

“This is the way that business is done Sophia, I need you there, if you do not accompany me his wife will most certainly see it as high snobbery and undoubtedly feel slighted.” He’d argued.

“Good, they are nothing more than barbarians, and frankly I’d rather you had no business dealings with them at all.”

“Soph, please, you know that I believe slavery has no place in our society, but not everyone is born…” He silences himself when she stops brushing her golden locks long enough to cut a sharp eye at him.

“Born what dear husband?” She questioned.

“With the advantages that you have.” He answered, reluctantly. She isn’t offended, he’s right, she has been born into a privileged life, her father’s wealth was more expansive than most could ever imagine. Still somewhere inside of herself she knows that even if she had not, she would never stoop to such a level of enslaving another human being for capital gain.

Mrs. Monroe turned out to be more of a buffoon than she had previously imagined, and Sophia quickly grew tired of her show of airs. She went on and on bragging about the training and education she had put into Sarah as if she were personally responsible for the culinary gifts the woman possessed. As if anyone could be taught to do as much with proper training, but Sophia knew better, some things couldn’t be taught. As much as she hated the trip, the food was remarkable, and the day before they were set to leave she spoke with the young lady when no one else was around. Asked her if she might like to come to New Hampshire, and head her kitchen, earning a respectable wage, as a free woman. She waited until they were seated at dinner that evening to offer to purchase Sarah. When Mrs. Monroe graciously declined as she knew she would, Sophia called out a price that was so ostentatious she would have been a fool to refuse. Mrs. Monroe was seething at how small Sophia had managed to make her feel at her own dinner table, she opened her mouth to decline again, but her husband spoke out over her.

“Sold.” He agreed raising his glass. For the first time since they’d arrived Mrs. Monroe was rendered speechless, and Sophia couldn’t have been more delighted. She was thrilled to be able to move Sarah from that situation, to see her become a ruler of her own labor so much so as any free black woman could in that age. Her mistake was in expecting everyone else to look upon her and see the same thing she saw when she looked at her, a human. One morning she’d gone into town for fabric, same as any other Tuesday, only this day would change things forever. Her husband’s nephew, who was just barely an adult, had come to stay with them while he took on an apprenticeship. If she had thought for even a second she would have returned to the horror she came home to, she never would have left the house. Sweet Sarah huddled in her room bloodied, bruised, violated in the worst way imaginable. Her nephew would lie, say that she propositioned him, but one only had to look upon poor Sarah to see the truth of the matter. He should have gone to prison for rape. He didn’t. Her husband somehow convinced her and Sarah that the best course of action would be to simply send him away, banish him, and they did. There was a difficulty in successfully prosecuting a man for rape in those days, of raping a black woman a near impossibility. Elizabeth was born into the world in nine months’ time, and Sophia wracked with guilt lavished gifts and riches upon her as if she were her own child. Asking Sarah for permission that she refer to them as Aunt and Uncle. The finest tutors that money could by stood at her disposal, while the prettiest dresses constructed of the most exotic fabric were her play clothes.                

Abraham knew the story well, he’d asked her about her parents during his teen years, and she told him the truth of how she came to be. He could vividly remember the anger and disgust he felt listening to her recount it. It changed him, somehow made him more aware of the state of society, the world. Women were quite simply not safe, and women of African descent were even less so. Perhaps that’s why he acted as he did that fateful night, why he was ready and willing, unblinkingly to kill a man. Somehow he knew had he pulled the trigger he wouldn’t have lost any sleep over it. In truth he was always both loyal and unforgiving to a fault, Ichabod knew this better than any, and yet somehow found the stomach to betray him. That was something he lost sleep over. He turned to his side, listening to the small clock on the wall shorten his life with each passing second. He thought back to the life he hailed from, the life they came from, they’d had such high hopes.

“Oh come on Ichabod you can do better than that. Do try to make this a worthy competition.” A young Abraham snapped at his best mate. Ichabod reloaded and raised his musket, stilled his breath and squeezed the trigger.

“Oh well done.” Abraham exclaimed eyeing his companion’s shot in the center of the target. “And here I thought the only game you were interested in, was viewing Emily Barton play mould my cockle bread.” He laughed.

“Abraham!” Ichabod exclaimed. His eyes grew wide as he cast a nervous glance off in the direction of Mr. Van Brunt’s master of horses.

Abraham nearly doubled over with laughter. “Good God Ichabod, I’m merely ribbing you, he is yards away, and cannot possibly hear us. Even if they did nothing would come of it.”

Ichabod raised a finger. “For me, but it is precisely that sort of miscarriage of tongue that can be most damaging to a lady’s reputation. Besides, you know well that nothing occurred.” Ichabod stated.

“Always the gentlemen Ichabod, even with your closest chap.” Abraham laughed. “Come on, let’s pilfer a few bottles of my father’s rum from the cellar and drink until our hearts are merry.” He said slinging an arm around Ichabod’s shoulder. In a plea for independence Abraham had moved his room to the east wing of the house, which was largely unused. Had he and Ichabod not needed to return the guns to his father’s gun case they likely would have never heard the baby crying.

“Shhh sweet Phoebe, what is the fuss hmm? What is the fuss.” Abraham cooed, scooping his sister up from the crib. “Where is your darling mother hmm, where is she?” He whispered as he and Ichabod exchanged suspicious glances. Bette doted on Phoebe awfully, both of them really, so naturally the fact that she didn’t hear her crying immediately made Abraham uneasy. Still, even though the staff quarters were located downstairs, Abraham was baffled that no one had heard the baby crying. The sound of raised voices called his attention and he quickly returned Phoebe to her crib so he and Ichabod could go investigate further. He could just barely hear a familiar voice yelling, “Hold still,” When he and Ichabod burst into his parents’ room he found Mr. Richard’s, his father’s house steward with his hands around Elizabeth’s throat as he attempted to force himself upon her. They pulled him off of her and slung him to the floor, but upon seeing her tattered gown and reddened throat Abraham’s anger only grew. Ichabod quickly grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around her.

“Master Abraham, this is not as it appears, she, sir, sh-sh-she propositioned me.” He lied.

“Musket.” He called to Ichabod, who didn’t hesitate in tossing one to him. All of it came full circle. As house steward, Mr. Richard’s oversaw all of the in-home employees, no one heard Phoebe crying because he had plotted and calculated this scenario with exacting precision. What he hadn’t managed to realize was that at the age of fifteen he and Ichabod had tilted enough strong drink to hold their rum as well as any grown man.

“You have fifteen seconds to make it off of my land.” He warned, as he began loading his weapon. He made a motion towards Abraham’s weapon and was met with the heel of Ichabod’s boot, which sent him clattering back to the floor.

“Eight seconds.” Abraham warned, still loading. Everyone in the room knew such a feat was impossible, a person could scarcely make it to the stairs in the allotted time. Mr. Richard’s chose to stay and beg, rather than even attempt running for his life.

“I confess, please, please, Master Abraham, I beg of thee spare me, spare my life.” He pleaded. Abraham raised his weapon as if he hadn’t said a word. If not for her voice cutting through the air, he would have fired.

“Bramble no. No my love.” Elizabeth stated. She’d spent the last eight years doing everything in her power to keep him innocent, to keep his heart pure. She wouldn’t see it tarnished by the likes of Mr. Richards. He should have kept quiet, but instead he had the audacity to form his lips to thank her for her mercy. She ripped the gun from Abraham’s hands and clobbered him upside the head.

“Get out of my house.” She growled through clenched teeth, watching his head hit the floor.   “Phoebe.” She said, hearing her daughter’s cries from down the hall. Abraham and Ichabod immediately saw Mr. Richards to the road. Abraham falling back upon Elizabeth’s plea multiple times throughout their trek. He glanced over at Ichabod who met his gaze directly, letting him know that he was with him in whatever he chose to do. If he shot him, he would help him bury the body, if he let him go, he wouldn’t think less of him. Mr. Richards sought to control Elizabeth, to rule over a woman he thought had no right wielding as much power as she did. He deserved to die for his crimes, and Abraham knew with certainty that he would.  

“Thank you Master Abraham, I lost myself, but know that I shall endeavor to be better.” Abraham smiled at him wicked, and cold.

“My father’s ship is set to arrive in three days’ time, and I shall be at the docks to greet him. The first words I speak to him will be of your betrayal. You, even more than most, should be well aware that my father’s reach is quite expansive, you will be hunted, and you will be killed in a fashion so brutal that you will wish that you had found your demise at the end of my musket.”

He and Ichabod had long been close, but that night on the walk home, it was apparent that they’d grown even closer. He was with him, no matter what, when it mattered most, and Abraham would never forget it. Four years later when a terrible flu took Elizabeth and the little one still inside of her belly, Ichabod was a rock for not only him, but a young Phoebe as well. He made his own choices, it was his burden, and his alone to live with them. Life was never romanticized for him, and though he had his share of happiness, the harder times literally sat him down. He never loved anything as much as he loved Phoebe, their bond only strengthened by the fact they lost their mother’s at such a young age.  He only wished that the last time he saw his sister, he could have known it would be the last time he would see her. If there is one thing his mother and Bette’s deaths should have taught him, it should have been this, the impermanence of it all, but the thought of never being reunited with her had never entered his mind. He lay there wondering how her life turned out, if she met a man who treated her kindly, if she was happy. Tears swelled in his eyes and fell to the pillow as he realized that he would never know.

 

* * *

 

 

Abbie sat on her bed holding the lingerie Ichabod had gifted her. She was just disrobing for her bath when she heard footsteps on the stairs, followed by Jenny storming by her room and a door slamming. She sat the nighty aside and lifted herself from the mattress to look in on her sister.

“Jenny.” She called glancing around the room. When she didn’t answer right away Abbie knew exactly where she was, the same place she hid when they were kids. She walked over to the closet and tapped on the door.

“Jen.” She said pulling back the door to find her tearful sister clutching a bottle of apple flavored Crown Royal.

“Hey what’s wrong, okay if I come in?” Abbie took Jenny’s raising the bottle as an invitation for entry. She slipped in pushing a shoe box out of the way to take a seat in front of her sister.

“You want to talk about it? Abbie asked, waving off the bottle Jenny tilted in her direction.  

“I’m fine.” She whimpered.

“You’re _crying_ , what happened.” Abbie asked.

“I’m not crying.” She cried, attempting to dry her tears. “I’m not.” She reiterated in a stronger voice.

“Okay.” Abbie agreed. “You want to tell me why you’re…not crying?” She asked.

“No big deal, Frank and I broke up.” “What, why, and how is that not a big deal?!” She asked surprised.

“He kissed Cynthia or she kissed him, I don’t know, or care for that matter. Apparently it happened weeks ago but I just found out tonight. Oh! Ask me how I found out?” Jenny said stretching her lips into a misleading smile.

“Jenny.”

“He went to the bathroom and a text came through from Cynthia. Macey left her purse in the car and I thought maybe the message was about that, so I read it. She wanted to know why he’d been acting so weird since the kiss.” Jenny leaned her head back against the wall. “I am a fucking idiot.”

“No _you_ are perfect, if he can’t recognize that he’s the fucking idiot. What did he say when you asked him about it?”

“That it was nothing, and it just happened one night after he dropped Macey off. That she instigated it of course. I love you baby, you’re the only one a want, I can’t live without you.” Jenny’s voice wavered before she paused briefly to gain control of it. “You know the usual bullshit.” She added offering Abbie the bottle of whiskey which she quickly waved off.  Jenny sighed a little annoyed.

“And what did you say.” Abbie asked.

“Nothing really, I slapped him, and left.” Jenny studied the pensive look covering Abbie’s face. “What? Don’t tell me you think I’m over-reacting, Bells you’re the one who told me if a guy is entertaining other women while you’re in a committed relationship, drop him, no questions asked.”

“I don’t think you’re over-reacting at all, you have every right to be pissed. If he said she kissed him, that’s probably how it went down, but…she had to feel a certain level of comfort to even attempt it, and he should have told you immediately but…” Abbie sighed.

“But what?” Jenny asked rolling her eyes.

“I’m not defending him, but it was just a kiss, that someone else initiated. Maybe he had a plausible reason for keeping it from you.”

“Like what?”

“That’s something you have to ask him.”

“Why should I even bother, I can’t really trust a word out of his fucking mouth, because if it were up to him, I would have _never_ found out. Besides, I had to get out of there, I was this-close to crying, and I didn’t want him to see it. I didn’t want him to know…”

“—How bad he hurt you.” Abbie filled in.

Jenny nodded. “I love him, but it’s like you said, he looked me in the face for weeks, and never said a word. I tell him everything, I thought _we_ told each other everything, and now I just feel…alone.”

“Hey.” Abbie said laying a hand on her knee. “You’re not alone, and you never will be you know that.  

Jenny nodded. “Hey, we’re all we got. Right.” She said taking a pull from her whiskey.

“I should kick his ass for making you feel this way.”

“Bells no.” Jenny said sitting forward. “I’m not ten years old anymore, you can’t beat up every boy that hurts my feelings.

“You wanna bet.” Abbie argued, brushing her sister curls back off of her face. “Jen I’m sorry. Maybe he was too old for you, and he’d just divorced the year before you two started seeing each other, I should have said something?” Abbie reasoned.

“Abbie, stop blaming yourself. I went in with my eyes open. Can you just sit in here and drink with me, because I don’t want to get drunk alone, and I really, really want to get drunk.” Jenny pleaded, offering her the bottle again.

“I can’t.” She affirms, dropping a condoling hand on her sister’s knee.    

“C’mon you don’t have to go back to work tomorrow, drink with me.”

“I can’t.” Abbie repeated. Jenny shook her head in disbelief, she was there for Abbie through everything, and couldn’t believe she wouldn’t just sit with her and have a drink.

“I’ll stay, but I’m gonna have to take a rain-check on the drink.” Abbie maintained. “Say thirty-five, thirty-six weeks from now.” She added placing her hand over her flat belly. Jenny’s mouth opened as her eyes grew big and deadened upon her sister’s hand.

“Um are you going to just sit there with your mouth open like that, or are you going to say something.” Abbie asked noticing her sister hadn’t so much as blinked for the last twelve seconds.

“Get the fuck outta here. Are you, you’re shitting me?! But how, I mean I know how, but _how_?” Jenny asked. “Did you stop taking your pill? When, you didn’t even mention anything to me.”

“I didn’t stop taking it, I started taking antibiotics, which pretty much had the same affect.” Abbie stated.

“Oh my God!” Jenny exclaimed. “You have got to be kidding me, Miss. calling me on the phone every night to make sure I remember to take my pill forgot to use a back-up method while taking antibiotics.”

“I know, I know.” Abbie said covering her face. “The crazy thing is, it never crossed my mind. Condoms were always my first line of defense, the pill was my back-up, until…well you know who.” Abbie smiled shaking her head, causing Jenny to break into a big grin.

“You’re happy about it, congratulations.” She beamed giving her a quick hug. “How long have you known?”

“Like fifteen hours.”

“And you’re just now telling me, what the hell?” Jenny smiled. “Okay this news deserves a shot.” She noted tipping her bottle. “Don’t worry I’ll take one for you too.” She smiled, before taking another gulp. “So let’s hear it, what did Mr. You Know Who say, I already know he must have been ecstatic, his sweet Apple with child.” She stated imitating his voice. “Matter of fact, I’m kinda surprised he isn’t still here.” Jenny only had to study Abbie’s expression for a half second to ascertain the truth.

“You didn’t tell him?!” She nearly shouted.

“D’s sleeping.” Abbie warned.

“Abbie, what are you thinking? You _have_ to tell him. I know you wanted to make sure he had enough time with Jeremy, but he’s just going to have to work out a schedule. You’re having his baby, like a-whole-nother person, plus you have Delton, that’s two kids.”

“Good to know the whiskey hasn’t affected your arithmetic.” Abbie joked.

“Bells seriously, he would want to know.”

“ _Jenny_.”

“What? You should have seen his face when he found out about Delton, Abbie you know as well as I do that he would want the chance to be here with you.”

“ _Jenny_.” Abbie shook her head slowly. “I was going to tell him today, earlier when he was here but,”

“—But what?” Jenny asked.

“He basically said that this wasn’t a good time for us to have a child before I got a chance to…so I didn’t’. It just killed the moment for me, and…it hurt. When I tell him that about the baby, about our baby, I want to look into his eyes and see joy, I don’t know that I can withstand seeing doubt, or worry, or anything other than happiness. So I can’t tell him right now. It was just then that Abbie remembered she had to text Ichabod and tell him tonight wasn’t a good night. She excused herself for a minute and went to her room to send the text, she knew Jenny would feel awful if she thought she was getting in the way of things, and the last thing Abbie wanted was for her to feel any worse than she already did. She waited a minute for his reply but when it didn’t come she assumed he’d already gone to bed, being that it was already pretty late.

The girls sat in the closet so long they nearly forgot where they were. They spent hours filling each other in on the details of their day, and their hopes for tomorrow. Soon they were laid out in what should have been uncomfortable positions, surrounded by shoes, huddled together using sweaters as pillows, and one of Jenny’s old jackets as a blanket. But it wasn’t uncomfortable at all, it was comforting in a way that only they could comfort one another. As children they had fallen asleep in the closet so often that their mama always left a pillow and a blanket nestled inside for them. Abbie wondered about her. Now that she had Delton, and another on the way it was easier to appreciate how frightened she must have been for their safety. She missed her still, she could still see her standing in the bathroom mirror fixing her hair as she and Jenny looked on like she was a superstar. Or coming home after a long day’s work and settling into a steaming hot bath only to have her and Jenny sit there in front of the tub because they so desperately wanted to be near her. They’d tell her about their day, and she always listened as if she were fascinated.  

“Jenny.”   Abbie whispered, too close to sleep to open her eyes.

“Hmm.” Jenny answered managing to pull herself out of her brief sleep.

“If anything ever happens to me…my babies.”

“Shhh.” Jenny whispered, tightening her grip on her sister. “You’re not going anywhere…but if you do, I will never leave them.” She promised.

The next morning Abbie lay awake waiting for Jenny to open her eyes. After a while she grew tired of waiting and jostled her awake.

“Ugh, my head. Oh my God.” Jenny groaned. “Why did you wake me up?” Abbie flashed a bright smile.

“I know why Frank didn’t tell you about the kiss.”

“So do I, because he’s a lying sack of shit.” Jenny stated dismissively.

“Wrong. He said it happened a couple of weeks ago right?”

“Yep, and _I_ just found out last night.”

“Like a couple of weeks ago when I was in the Lost World.” Abbie queried. She watched as the truth dawned upon Jenny. “You were already stressed out, he didn’t want to bother you with any additional bullshit. He thought he handled it, Jenny, and after I got back it got more difficult to bring up with each passing day.” She said holding up Jenny’s phone. “I turned your phone back on. You have fifteen text messages and twenty missed calls. Read it for yourself.” Abbie kissed Jenny on the cheek, and ran down to make Delton’s breakfast. An hour later Abbie cast a wide smile as she looked out through the window, watching Jenny and Frank embracing out on the deck. He’d showed up with flowers and apologies, and she’d come to her senses.

 

* * *

 

Ichabod never replied to her message, and Abbie begins to wonder if he’s upset with her. Yesterday just before he left, he’d gotten a call from Bren and after loosely explaining some of what had transpired made plans for him and the boys to meet up with him and his son, Ian, for a boys day out. She knew she was going to see him when he came to pick up D, or at least she thought she was or she would have called. She was upstairs wondering why morning sickness was called such instead of all afternoon sickness when he came and went. Jenny informed her that she’d tried to get him to wait for her to come down, but he told her he was in a rush. Abbie knew better, he was always punctual and rarely placed himself in a position where he needed to hurry. He didn’t want to see her, and she knew that had everything to do with her not calling last night.   She thought to wait until he brought D home to talk to him about it, but she couldn’t, she needed him to know that she wasn’t blowing him off or ignoring him as soon as possible. She knew that he would be salty when he answered the phone, what she didn’t expect was for him to remain that way and cut her off before she had a chance to explain what happened.

“Hey, I just wanted to explain a little bit about what happened last night”

“—It is not necessary, I understand clearly what happened.”

“Ichabod.”

“—Abbie.” He says pausing from entering the batting cages, waving Bren and the boys on without him. His fingers slid through the chain link fence as he contemplated telling her how hurt he is, how much he needed to hold her last night. “I needed you.” He decides upon.

“I’m sorry.” She pleaded. “I am trying to explain.”

“—Are you?” He asked ignoring her second sentence.

“Yes, but you won’t _listen_.”

“Sorry I mean. Are you truly sorry?”

She knows this tone in his voice, the one used on the plane from Mackinac, and again when he packed his things and left. She knows it better than she wants to because she’s hurt him before, and he only uses that tone when that’s occurred.

“Baby.” She breathes, and it kills him just to hear her voice. His eyes bend down, and jaws clench as he tries to fight the power she wields over him. She can persuade, and seduce him with the flutter of her lashes or pout of her lips. He knows her so well that to hear her voice is to see her face, and he can see her through the phone, sitting forward, staring across the room with those large innocent eyes.  

“I hoped to awake this morning with _my wife_ in my arms.” He finds the strength to say. “Do you understand what that is like, hoping for something that just a fortnight ago I was worried that I would never have the honor of again. And then you returned to me and I thought that we would be together once more. But you asked me to leave. Then the moment I saw you yesterday, all of my hope returned, and then last night when you did not call.” He falls silent too ashamed to give voice to this weakness he has for her, doesn’t want her to know how easily she breaks him.

“Ichabod…I. Am. _Sorry_.” For a brief moment he takes his eyes off of the boys across the field and allows them to close. In a sense he believes her, or at least he wants to, but something in him warns him that she doesn’t fully understand. He sighs, and does what he knows he must. “Do you need to speak with Delton or Jeremy?” He questions.

“I called to talk to you.” She clarifies.

“Do you need something, or does Delton need something you’ve not told me of?”

“What? No, what are you talking about?”

“Do you wish me to return home?”

“Yes, I want to see you tonight. I want to wake up with you.”

“For good?” He asks. “Do you wish me to return home for good Abbie? She’s silent for a moment, and he sighs, hanging his head because through her silence the answer is spoken. He takes his fingers through his loose tresses and prods on.

“Abbie?”

She hasn’t fully changed her mind about things, but even more pressing is the fact that he knows her so well, knows her body. Before she started taking the antibiotics he even had a handle on her cycle. She knew that if he came home he would quickly find out about the baby he claimed he wasn’t ready for. “We’ve talked about this, about what’s best”

“—Very well, call me when you do.” He states before she can even finish her sentence.

“Crane.”

“When you wish me to return home, for good, if you need something, or my son is in need of something, other than that…we have very little to discuss.” He declared through a clipped tone.

She calls his name again before she realizes that he’s hung up. She sat in disbelief, unable to understand this all or nothing hard line he’s just taken with her, and growing angrier with every second that she realizes he’s hung up on him. She sails her phone through the air and watches it smack against the wall. She knows it isn’t broken, due to the otter box it’s encased in. The way she felt it might almost feel better if it were, at least something would mirror the way that she felt inside. The replay of their conversation spins through her head as she tries to determine whether or not he was serious. He is, she decides, or at least he thinks he is, a part of her is heartbroken that he doesn’t want to see her, the other part of her is amused that he actually believes he’ll be able to stay away. _He can’t possibly fucking quit me, any more than I can quit him._ She knew who and what she was to him, and further, she knew him better than he knew himself. After she sits with it a while she finds herself slightly proud of him, the way he stuck up for what he believes is right, his foot firmly planted against the ground. He was so sexy when he got this way, it makes her crave him all the more. She hates that he’s hurting though, and there was no amusement to be found in his pain. Her growling stomach begin to twist reminding her that it was time to eat. Her fingers found her tummy and gave it a little rub. Usually she could go all morning and afternoon without eating, but the last few weeks she’s noticed that she wasn’t able to make it to late morning without getting something in her belly. After her survey of the fridge proved fruitless, she grabbed the keys to her car, and picked her phone up on the way out of the door.

She’s not in the mood for fruit, veggies, frozen pizza or any of the other quick fixes she had on hand. She wanted a big beefy, juicy, burger, a pile of fries, and maybe even a milkshake hell she deserved it. Instead of visiting her usual diner, she drives out a bit further to one she sometimes ventures out to when she wants to be alone, and doesn’t want to worry about bumping into anyone she knows.

 

Bren looked across the arcade staring at Delton and Jeremy playing with his son Ian, and still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around everything that Ichabod had told him.

“Yo. This is like some soap opera shit. So you thought your wife and child were dead, you meet, fall in love with and marry Abbie, and then you find out they weren’t.”

“Precisely.”

“And now Abbie has broken things off with you so you can be with your son. Man…” Bren shook his head in disbelief. “Damn, now I understand why it’s been so hard to get in touch with you. Bro the last time I talked to you had a wife and no kids, now you have two kids, and two ex-wives one of which may not be your ex-wife at all, legally speaking. How are you doing with all of this?”

Ichabod sat forward. “Abbie is still my wife.”

“But you’re living with your back from the dead wife.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Ichabod said feeling uneasy.

“And she understands the situation, that you feel that Abbie is still your wife?”

“I’m hopeful that she is beginning to.” Just that afternoon he’d had a conversation with Katrina affirming as much that had nearly left her in tears. They’d spent the morning and early afternoon viewing homes, and open houses in search of a new residence. When they returned home she asked for his input regarding a few choices, and he gave it, but made certain to inform her that the choice was wholly hers as he would not be residing in the home with her. He knew that she wanted something more, that she wanted to restore the life they had as husband and wife, but the only thing he could see in his future was Abbie. The past week he began to worry that their current living arrangement would encourage Katrina’s affection, and ultimately lead to her getting hurt, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Katrina was mortified. She made an effort to give him some space and time, but clearly he could look at her and see how she felt about him. She pleaded with him assuring him that while she did carry a torch for him, she was moving past it, and now only sought to co-parent their child. It was a lie, but sprinkled with enough truth to make him believe.      

“Look man, I’m no expert in romance, but if you know for certain that it’s Abbie you want, and not what’s her name—Katrina, you better figure out a way to get your ass back in the house. Don’t let her get used to being there without you.” Bren cautioned.

“Believe me I am trying, the same as I tried to keep from ever leaving, however it is quite bit easier said than done. Abbie is the most confounding woman I have ever known, and I have known my share of women.” He admitted taking a sip of his pop.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me, she’s tough. But listen I’m sure you guys will work it out, I mean you’re still” Bren tapped his closed fist against his palm, “You know, hittin it right?”

Ichabod gave a quick, dismissive twist of his head.

“Bro! Are you serious?! Bren exclaimed, eye’s growing. “You not even hit..” Ichabod raised his palm to caution Bren to the presence of the boys approaching behind him.

“Dad, Jeremy and I are out of tokens can we get some more?” Delton asked, clutching a fistful of tickets.

“I suppose.” Ichabod smiled digging into his wallet for a bill. “Remember split them equally.” The boys agreed and hurried off to the nearest token dispenser.

“Yo.”

“Bren.” Ichabod said in the tone he used to let Bren no they were encroaching a subject he wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about. “It is not as though I haven’t been trying to…” His eyes quickly darted around the room before his voice lowered, “for lack of a better term, hit it. It is complicated.”

“I’ve been there man. Listen. This is something I don’t usually talk about but it might help you so hey. Back when Kayley was pregnant with Hannah, she threw me out of the house.”

“Oh, I was not aware, for what purpose?”

“Because she hated my fuckin guts. Why did she hate my guts, I have no idea to this day.” Bren begin to count off on his fingers. “She said she hated my face, she said she hated my voice, the way I smell, the way her skin felt when I touched it, the way I gargled, the way I chewed my food, the way I breathed, the way my fuckin earlobes look, everything about me that was definitive of me, she hated.”

“Bren I am sorry to hear that, it sounds quite terrible.” Ichabod chuckled. “Apologies.” He stated feeling a little bad for laughing.

“Sounds, hell it was. I was a grown ass man living in my sister’s basement, trying not to let anyone know what was going on.”

“You never learned why she held these feelings.”

“No, it was some weird kind of pregnancy hormonal female shit, I don’t know, but every single day I went to the house and tried to be with her, I told her how much I loved her.”

“And?”

“And most days she told me to get the hell away from her, but there were a couple of days that she didn’t. And those days made every other day worth it because they let me know that eventually everything would be okay. Finally when she was around seven months, she started liking me again, and I got to come home.” He added with a smile.

“Abbie is not with child, I should be so lucky. She merely feels that what she is doing is right, regardless of how I feel. I keep making myself these ridiculous promises about the way that I will behave when I next see or speak to her, and as soon as I see her face…”

“You’re right back to square one.” Bren offered. Ichabod nodded his head.  

“But I do have faith. It has been difficult reasoning with Abbie about our life together, but in time she will find that I am in it for the long haul. If I’ve learned nothing from playing chess I’ve learned that not only a great deal of strategy, but _patience_ is required to capture a queen, and I have every intention of doing just that.” Ichabod stated.

“That’s my boy.” Bren said offering a pound to Ichabod.

“Now in the other matter that we discussed.” Ichabod said turning the subject back to the business opportunity he’d presented Bren with.

“I don’t know man. It’s not that it isn’t an exciting opportunity or anything like that, it’s just…do you know how many black male professors are in my department?”

“No.” He answered.

“You’re looking at him. I have to take some time to think about it, because as much as I’m intrigued by it, I started teaching for a reason. It’s important that my students of color have someone in my position who looks like them, if I resign they won’t have that.”

“I understand your position, and I respect you for it. Tendering my resignation is not something that I am looking forward to doing either, in fact I’m hoping to return as a visiting professor at some point or another. After the meeting yesterday it became clear that I would have to let something go, and for now that has to be teaching. I need someone I can rely upon, and Perry is wonderful, but you and I work in a more similar fashion. I am afraid I do not have the hours to give this a go on my own. I do hope you will consider how many lives you could affect from within our organization. I’m not asking you to stop teaching, it is needed, you in particular are needed, what I am asking is that you expand your classroom.”

 

* * *

 

 

Abbie looks out of the window as she finishes off her strawberry milkshake. A handful of fries, and leftover bread from her burger are scattered across her plate. Her eyes are focused on the family picnicking in the park across the street. Two little girls who remind her of her and Jenny as kids are spinning themselves dizzy, while their smiling father is spreading out a blanket and setting up food. Mom, is pulling their toddler from the stroller, and from the looks of it cautioning the girls to be careful. For a moment she imagines it’s she and Ichabod, Delton and Jeremy playing while she dotes upon the new little life that’s soon to come.

“How was everything?” A voice calls, breaking her out of her daydream. She turns a smile toward the woman in front of her.

“It was fantastic!” She says excitedly. “Seriously I’ve had this exact same thing a few times before, and this was the best it’s ever been. Please send my thanks to the cook.” Abbie gushed.

“Wow. We’ve had a couple of people say something similar to that today, our regular guy called in sick, and another employee filled in for him.” She turns and yells into the kitchen. “Hey Bill, you’re developing quite the fan-base, you know that, we might have to keep you back there.” She smiled.

Abbie saw him first, if she hadn’t she wouldn’t have seen him at all. Her mouth flopped open, and eyes grew sixfold when an aproned Abraham waltzed out of the kitchen to inquire as to what the fuss was about.

“Abraham!” She exclaimed. Watching him bend to retrieve a napkin that had been cast across the floor. He knew the voice, even before looking up to see who it belonged to.

“Abraham?” The waitress questioned. He froze unable to think of what to say or do at being found out.

“It’s his middle name, uh, we’re old friends.” Abbie quickly covers. “Isn’t that right Abe.”

Forty-five minutes later he took his lunch break and came out to take a seat opposite Abbie in the booth.

“I have been looking all over for you—my sister has, and she can find anyone, anywhere, anytime, but she couldn’t find you.” Abbie crooned. “Which leads me to believe you really, really didn’t want to be found. Do you want to let me know why, what are you up to?” She asked firmly.

Abraham’s eye’s narrowed on her. He worked here, he was liked here, everyone knew him as quiet, reliable, Bill and he hoped to keep it that way. His head nods in the direction of the park across the way.

“Do you care to take air with me?”

The pair made their way to a bench located beneath a few shaded trees.

“Well here we are. So you want to tell me why the hell you’re running.”

“I was not running, rather, merely evading you.” He corrected.

“Why. I want to know _what_ you are up to, and I want to know now, those are good people in there, and you.”

“—I am the Headless Horseman.” He interrupts meeting her eyes. “Is that not who you see when you look at me, a criminal, a monster?” He asked. “I am not trying to harm anyone, as I am quite sure you believe I intend to, I…I simply wanted to be around people who do not look upon me, as you are looking upon me at this very moment, someone who does not see all of the awful things I’ve done when they look at me.”

“Abraham, that’s not the way I’m looking at you. Because you also saved my sister, you helped me, remember. You think everyone doesn’t feel that way? That other people don’t do things that might make others think less of them, it happens. Maybe not to the extent that things occurred with you, but all of us have our days, our moments, good and bad. I want to tell you a story, that…I’ve never told anyone else, no-one. I was a pretty mixed up kid, teenage rebellion, I was in foster care, essentially an orphan, and I missed my parents a lot. Jenny and I were separated for a while, and I would go out drinking with different kids and I fell in with this group of older kids who were into _much_ heavier things then me. Long story short we were all young and broke, so we would break into different places to feed our habits. We had a rule, if there was ever anyone there we bugged out. But this one night when we were especially broke, and dry, we broke into this old corner store, and there was a guy in the back. I turned to the guys I was with, tried to get them to leave, and…they didn’t. They… grabbed the guy and made him open the safe. I wanted to leave, but I didn’t, I couldn’t, I was the one who picked the lock. If it weren’t for me, they would have never have gotten inside…and if I left and something happened, I could never have forgiven myself. But standing there, watching that happen to someone, _allowing_ that to happen to someone, I never forgave myself anyway.   I am forever going to be a villain in that man’s memory, always, that will never change. I live with that, and I deserve to live with it, but…I get up every day with this same face, and same name, and I try to be a better person in someone else’s memory, and that’s all I can do. That’s all any of us can do. Hiding from others will never bring you any true peace, because deep down the person you really need to forgive, is yourself.”

Abraham sighed. “It is daunting. I have made so many horrible mistakes. I hardly know where to begin in righting them.”

“You already have. Begun.”

“He’s gone you know, the Horseman. After Moloch was killed, I felt it leave me. Even my power has returned to that of the power I had in my mortal life. A fortnight ago, I cut myself and bled…I had never been so exultant to injure myself.” He smiled.

Abbie smiled at him, he was a bit different, a little light seemed to shine through his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“I’m happy for you…I really am.” She said.

“I could not adequately relay how much it means to hear you speak those words. My actions have cost you, dearly.”

“They have. But, when it all was on the line, you chose good over evil. Which reminds me why I’ve been searching for you, I have news.” She didn’t quite know how to say it, so she just let it out. “Katrina…she’s alive.”

After convincing him to retake his seat Abbie explained the mix up. He was happy, thankful that Moloch hadn’t stolen another soul from this world, but it wasn’t like it was before. After being returned to his mortal self he was afforded the time and clarity that he didn’t have before. He reacted, quite impulsively, and it cost him everything, Katrina, and Ichabod cost him everything. He didn’t know how many times he’d gone over what happened in the woods that day, if only he could have gone back to change things. He wouldn’t have lost his temper, he wouldn’t have imperiled their mission, he wouldn’t have drawn his sword, but that was time and reflection speaking, he needed that then. He needed only a moment to gather himself, but didn’t have it.

“I guess I expected a little bit of a different reaction.” Abbie commented noting his calm demeanor.

“I am pleased. Happy that Moloch was not able to steal another soul from this life. And yet I have no desire to see her again. I can only imagine how many good laughs she and Ichabod must have shared at my expense. I was a fool to trust them, to love them, they did not deserve it. I hope that time has done for her, all that it has for me, but I care not to happen upon that road again.”

“Wow.” Abbie said genuinely taken aback. “That’s understandable, I just thought you had a right to know.”

“How are you faring in the wake of her return, she must have been quite upset when Ichabod relayed the news that he was now in love with you.” Abbie raised her eyebrows.

Abraham’s entire body shifts. “Oh come now, Ichabod’s a disloyal scumbucket, but he’s no fool. Do not tell me he’s left you for her.”

“No he didn’t leave me, but it’s a really long story.”

Abraham looks down at his watch. “I’m all ears.”

Twenty minutes later Abraham sits back and stares at Abbie in wonder. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know.”

She turns her eyes to his. “I love him Abraham.” She understands his issue with him, if it were her, she’d feel the same way. But she doesn’t, and she can only hear Ichabod him spoken of poorly for so long. Abraham seems to understand this, and backs off.

“Tis evident.” He states rolling his eyes.

A long silence ensues, they both are watching the water thinking through the tentative silence. After a while Abbie looks over at him, and breaks into a soft chuckle.

“Ah to what have I done to deserve such a sweet melody?” He asks, bearing a grin of his own. Abbie tries to stop laughing long enough to try to speak.

“Just a month ago we were trying to kill each other. I was trying to send you to hell, you were trying to cut off my head, and now we’re sittin’ in the park, watchin’ ducks. I never in a million years thought any of this would happen.” She laughs.

Abraham joins in on the laughter for a bit. “Nor I Miss Mills, nor I,” A more serious tone finds his voice, “Though I am interminably pleased that it has.”  

 

 

* * *

 

 

On the way home Ichabod couldn’t help but notice how quiet Delton was being, he wasn’t the most talkative kid, but he usually had more to say. He’d planned on dropping him off first than heading to the cabin with Jeremy, but he could tell that something was troubling him.

“Delton. How would you like to sit up from with me? He asked as they prepared to leave the cabin.

“Really, I’d love to, but..mom says I’m not supposed to.”

“And she is correct, but just this once we shall make an exception.” Ichabod states, knowing he’d shatter every bone in his body before he let an airbag hit him.

They pulled out onto the country road. “You know that if something is troubling you, you can share it with me. No matter what it is, I will always be willing to listen.” He advises.

“Yes sir.” He didn’t say anything for a while, they rode listening to the radio until Delton finally turned to him.   “Do you still love my mom?” He asked. Ichabod glances over at him, it’s clear that he’s confused about things, even after the talk they had.

“With all of my heart.” He answers honestly.

“But you guys don’t live together anymore. You live at the cabin now…with Jeremy’s mom. But I saw you kiss my mom yesterday, when you were leaving.” Ichabod sighed, took the next right and pulled off of the road. He and Abbie had tried to be careful of their interactions. The last thing they wanted to do was add to the children’s confusion. “You came back in without Jeremy after you had already said goodbye. I saw you guys from over the top of the railing, I wasn’t spying, I was going to the bathroom, but I saw you kiss her.”

“I’m just asking because...my mom acts so happy all of the time, but sometimes I think maybe she isn’t, I think she misses you.” The words weighed upon Ichabod like a ton of bricks.

“Delton. I know this is confusing for you, and horrible, and I want to you to know that your mum and I are doing everything in our power to straighten things out. What I can promise you is that I will never stop loving her, so you need not worry about that. In fact, I need you to do me a very big favor.”

“Yes.”

“Do not worry at all. Let me do all of the worrying. Just know that your parents love you very much, and everything will work itself out.”  

 

 

* * *

 

That night Abbie sat flipping through one of the many books she’d picked up on pregnancy and parenting. She stretched forward to lay on her stomach and caught a glimpse of the flowers Delton brought her. He was so excited when he came bouncing through the door.

“Surprise!” He chirped, holding up the vase. Abbie gasped with delight at the beautiful arrangement of roses and lilies, and hugged and kissed her son for his thoughtfulness.

“For me?” She beamed. “What did I do to deserve these?”

“Everything.” He smiled. “You’re the best mom ever!”

“Sweetie these are the most beautiful flowers that I have ever received. I love them.” She said pulling him into another hug.

“Thanks. I was going to pay for them with my own money and everything, but my dad paid for them instead. I picked all of the flowers though—well almost all of them, except for this one right here,” He said pointing to the single red rose immersed in a group of pink and white roses and lilies. “Dad picked that one.”

“You like them really?” He asked.

“I do.” She’d smiled. “Thank you.”

She looked over at her phone, wondering what Ichabod was doing just then. And inward voice invites her to phone him, even though he’s asked her not to. The books are pushed aside and her fingers are pressing buttons before she has a chance to talk herself out of it.

‘Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful.’   She texts. The little dots at the bottom of the screen alert her to the fact that he’s reading her message, which causes a hopeful smile to brighten her face. Her eyes remain fixed upon the screen, anticipating his response.

‘I am pleased that you found them enjoyable, though I cannot take credit as it was our dutiful son’s idea.’ He replies.

‘I know, I was more specifically referring to the rose… the red one.’ She hits send and awaits his reply.

He can’t decide whether or not he’s happy that she took notice of it. He’s conflicted in wanting her to miss his love, but at the same time he never wants her to go a day without it.   ‘I love you’ He types and quickly erases. ‘You are most welcome.’ He messages.

‘I love you’ she types, but can’t bring herself to hit send. She knew him well enough to know that those words would lead to an argument.

The beep of an incoming message draws her eyes to the screen. “I love you.” The message reads, setting loose a jar of butterfly in her belly. She’s all smiles, and heated cheeks, but she feels a little stupid that three little words have an ability to change her mood.

‘You love me, but you don’t want to see me…you don’t want to hear from me unless it’s regarding our son.’ She sends.

Are you ready to agree to my terms?

Terms? This isn’t a war.

‘Of course it is.’

‘Are you?’ He messages right after.

He waits for what seems like forever, he imagines that she’s typing something much more elaborate than the

“No,’ that flashes across the screen.

‘Then no. I cannot see you.’  

Her eyes hover over the box of lingerie he’s presented her with. She tosses the phone to her bed, and starts out of her clothes.

He doesn’t receive a message for a good while so he sits his phone down on the end table next to the sofa and rests his head upon his pillow. He isn’t sure what he’s expected her to say, but still he’s a little disappointed in that she hadn’t said anything more. He’s all too eager when the alert sounds, quickly snatching it from the wooden table top and holding it up to read.   He flings forward nearly dropping his phone at the sight of the message that’s come through. His fingers juggle the small rectangle and just barely manage to keep it from falling to the floor. Once his hands stabilize he stares intently at the photograph.

‘Suit yourself.’ It reads.

It doesn’t show her face or even torso, but it shows just enough of her to make him desire to see more. She’s leaning, rather half sitting against the dresser, toes in an intoxicating point against the floor. The camera is angled down capturing every delectable inch of her sensuous legs. As his eyes travel up the photo he notices the outer hem of the negligee he purchased her just barely touches her hips, while the red rose he’d sent is dangled in front of her apex.

“Christ.” He murmurs feeling inextinguishable lust building in his loins. His legs swing over the edge of the bed, and he’s subconsciously slipped into his shoes. He grabs his keys, and reaches for a jacket to throw on over his t shirt and pajama pants, but just as he reaches for it he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His shoulders sink at the pathetic sight he sees before him, she dangles a carrot, rings a bell, and he’s tripping all over himself to answer it’s call. Who was he, who was this person he’d become, with so little will, who held so little value of himself and what he deserved. An inner voice taunts him. _The photograph Ichabod, she’s there this instant, warm and waiting for you. You remember how those legs feel, wrapped around you, mercilessly squeezing your sides as she straddles you, cast over your shoulders while she’s pinned beneath you. What is that little thing she whispers ‘fuck me like you hate me baby’ she’s there waiting for you to do just that, go on, go over, handle your affairs, return, and go to bed._ He twist the keys in his fingers, as a quieter but wiser voice comes through. The one that tells him that going over there will only delay him getting what he truly wants. Her. Not for the night, or even a few stolen hours here and there, but all of the time, for the rest of his life. He returned his jacket to the rack, and pulled his boots from his feet. He’d showered before lying down, he would again, he would rub the lust out of him, and return to bed. If only it were so easy to satisfy the yearning inside of his heart. The need to be near her, to hold her in his arms and see her off to sleep.

‘Good night Mrs. Crane. Sleep well.’ He texts.

Abbie’s head flops back against her pillow after reading the message. She was certain he’d be halfway here by now. She still smiles, imagining his face when he saw the photo.

‘Good night Ichabod Crane, I love you.’ She types, before twisting off the light.

 


	25. All Of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All! This chapter is ridiculously late because after I read it, I thought it would flow better with the next set of chapters, which were almost complete, but I just couldn't find a minute to give them. This chapter was long so I had to split it, I will post chapter 26 today :-) I know you're all like mm hmm where have I heard that before, but I'm for serious this time. lol. Chapter 27 is nearly finished as well but I may divert my attention to this quick little one-shot I've been kicking around in my head. Thank you so much for reading, and commenting, kudos, all the love and feedback, all of it is useful, and I appreciate it.

The next day Abbie sat in front of Irving’s desk trying her hardest to plead her case.

“Light duty Mills.” He said setting a stack of folders aside.

“Captain,” She stated leaning forward, “I was going to tell you within an appropriate time frame, to be honest I planned upon asking for a special assignment _today._ That being said, Jenny had _no_ right disclosing my medical information.”

“Appropriate time frame?” He repeated suggestively. “Like how appropriate, were you going to notify me when you told Crane?” He questioned in a sarcastic tone. Jenny was freaking dead.

Abbie’s fingertips found the edge of his desk as she continued on through restrained irritation. “Sir, with all due respect Ramirez didn’t go on light duty until midway through her second trimester, I was thinking perhaps”

“—Light. Duty. Mills.” He repeated leaning back in his chair. “Or there’s always disability.” He offered.

“I’m not disabled, I’m pregnant.” She snapped.

Irving rested his elbow on his desk donning a wide smile. “I know I still can’t believe it, Uncle Frank, I’m so excited. What do you want, another boy, or a girl?”

“I want to work,” Abbie said in a slow firm voice, “and _you_ are not treating me as other employees who are similarly situated. That’s discriminatory.” She declared, looking on as he returned his attention to the papers he was organizing.

“Do you need the forms to file a complaint? I can have Judy bring them in.” He offers unfazed by her protest. A scowl overtakes Abbie’s face, she sits back, fingers clasped upon her lap. He looks are her tight lipped expression, and pauses from his task.

“Listen let’s be honest, Ramirez’s detail was light duty in and of itself. There was no danger there. Your job duties are something completely different. I know you don’t want to risk the baby, and I know your don’t want to cause risk to your fellow officers.”

“Of course not.” She agrees, “Which is why I was going to ask for special assignment. But I want to be useful. What I do not want is to sit around all day answering phones and taking messages.”

“Somebody has to answer phones and take messages, we all can’t kick in doors Mills.” Irving sighs, and then eases up noting the disappointment across her face.

“Okay look, we have some cases that have gone cold. You can take them over, get with the detectives who were working them, see if there’s anything they missed, any breaks you can uncover.”

Abbie’s heart pounded with excitement as an enormous smile stretched across her face. “Excellent, this is a wonderful idea! Thank you sir!” She said raising from her seat. “And I want you to know that I’m going to do my best to bring some resolution to these cases.” She grinned, before starting out of his office.

“Mills.”

“Yes.” She answered turning around from the door.

“All of your investigating is to be done here. You come into the station in the morning, and you do not leave the station until it’s time to go home. Further when you go home, _go home_. I don’t want you on the streets tracking down any leads whatsoever. If you happen to come across a lead that requires following up, you will immediately delegate that responsibility to one of the detectives. If I get wind that you disobeyed any of these orders, I’m putting you on suspension, you’re dismissed.”

Abbie frowned in reaction to the conditions piled upon her new duty. “Yes sir.” She replied tersely before heading out of the door. She already dialed Jenny by the time she reached her office.

“Are you serious?”

Jenny took a break from the application she was filling out. “I see you talked to Frank.”

“You are an asshole, you know that?” Abbie said plopping down at her desk.

“So I’ve been told.” Jenny sang.

“Do you have any idea what kind of space this puts him in with regard to Crane, what kind of space this puts me in, they’re friends Jenny. What would possess you to tell him?” Her tone scornful as she spoke.

“Relax, I told him not to say anything, and besides, maybe it’ll be good if he does.” She mutters under her breath.

“Are you on drugs? Really, help me get to the level of high you have to be in order to think that would be a good idea.”

“Bells, I know that you said he didn’t think it was a good time and all, but he _loves_ you and he _will_ come around. I know that you’re worried about his reaction, you said yourself you’re afraid that if you tell him and he isn’t happy, or he hesitates you would feel…”

“—Crushed.” Abbie filled in. “I know what I said, and I know what you think, we’ve been through it, but I need to give him a minute, because the last time I talked to him it sounded _to me_ like he needed one.” Abbie pointed out.

“Jenny.” She sighed into the phone, speaking through a level of exasperation and defeat that her sister wasn’t accustomed to hearing in her voice.

“A lot of the times that people get hurt, it’s because they’re surprised by things that really shouldn’t be a surprise at all. He told me how he felt, do you understand that…he told me.”

“I hear you, I do.” Jenny acknowledged immediately feeling horrible for her sister’s predicament. “I’m just saying it’s such a huge thing to keep secret, and it can’t be good for you. I’m worried about you. If someone did tell him, it would alleviate a lot of your worries. You wouldn’t have to worry about his initial reaction because you wouldn’t see it, the only thing you would see would be his happiness after he had time to realize and appreciate the fact that the woman he loves is carrying his child. Bells, he _will_ feel that way.” She said encouragingly.    

Abbie sat silent upon the phone contemplating everything her sister had said. Her lipstick covered mouth parted slightly as she thought.

“He would be furious,” She decided. “He’s already been through something similar with Katrina, and it hurt him deeply. It will quite possibly cause irreparable damage to our trust.”

“Uh, you’re pregnant and afraid to tell him. The trust between the two of you is already damaged.” Jenny observed. “I love you but you’re being stupid, your husband is house hunting with _a-nother_ woman. If you want him you need to tell him that.”

“It isn’t like that.”

Jenny laughed. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

“He doesn’t love her Jenny, there’s nothing there.” Abbie informed her. “He has a lot weighing on him right now, and I need to be understanding of that and allow him a moment to catch his breath.”

“Did you have a chance to catch your breath?” Jenny quizzed.

“I gotta get back to work.” Abbie stated growing weary of the circles the conversation was spinning in.

“No, I’ll answer for you. You didn’t have a moment to catch your breath. You guys killed Moloch, his wife and kid returned from the dead, and now you’re pregnant. He is a grown ass man, you need to stop trying to protect him from everything, this is life. You know as well as anyone it isn’t going to slow down or suddenly get easier, this is it, right now. There will never be a perfect time to tell him.”   She asserted.

“It isn’t only him I’m trying to protect Jenny!” Abbie states, just barely keeping herself from yelling. She sighs calming herself, and lowering her voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Fine.” Jenny relented. “Give him a minute. Hell, give him an hour where the baby’s concerned, but this whole ordeal of not allowing him to come home…Jeremy is clearly adapting well, so maybe all of those things that happened were just reflective of him coming to this new world. He certainly hasn’t appeared afraid, or fearful when I’ve been around him.”

“Or perhaps his development has something to do with his father’s constant steady presence, and therapy.” Abbie argued, causing Jenny to throw her hands up. Sensing her sister’s frustration, Abbie let her know that she did understand her side of things as well.

“I hear you Jenny, and I hope you’re right about J.” She confessed. “But I just think he needs a little more time, see you when I get home.”

 

****

* * *

 

**_A little over a week later_**.

Abbie pulled into the diner parking lot half-starved on a gray windy afternoon. She’d barely parked her car before Irving rang her phone.

“Are we going to do this every day, it’s my lunch hour.” She stated.

“Just making sure, I’ve noticed your lunch hour is getting longer and longer as the week progresses. I’m trusting you.” Irving remarks, growing worried she’s been hunting down leads.

“I’m not working leads.” Abbie replies. “I’m eating, and as long as my lunch hour has been it still isn’t long enough to compensate for how early I’ve been coming in.” She adds. “But if you want me back there right on time it’s no problem, I could always use the extra OT.” She teases.

Irving chuckles lightly. “It’s fine Mills, enjoy your lunch.”      

Abbie stepped through the parking lot pausing to smile at a pair of bright green hummingbirds that hopped and played along the cool breeze. Her stomach growled loudly, causing her to feel immediate guilt. She would have to remember to pack a mid-morning snack for the tomorrow. The oatmeal she had for breakfast had taken her as far as it was going to go, and the last hour at her desk she’d spent more time daydreaming about one of Abraham’s burgers, than working. Her face was awash with disappointment when she realized the regular cook was back in the kitchen and Abraham was busing tables. He nodded hello when she walked in and continued clearing the booth he’d been working on. He grinned to himself listening in as the waitress took her order. After finishing his table he popped back into the kitchen to prepare her food the way he knew she liked it.

“You do realize we have other selections upon the menu.” He quipped setting her plate in front of her.

“Whaaat,” She giggled. She had been craving red meat like nobody’s business, and ordered a burger nearly every time she came in which was starting to be every day at lunch break.

“I switched it up, I got a side salad instead of fries, and water.” She added tapping her glass. “I didn’t get a milkshake this time.”

“Not yet anyway.” He teased placing a hand on the other side of the booth. “May I?”

“Be my guest.” She said, taking a sip of her drink. “Do you want to split some of this?”

“No, no.” He declined raising a hand to wave of her offer. “Please proceed.”

“I’m sorry I’m starving.” She said taking a bite of her burger. Abraham couldn’t keep the smile from enveloping his face as he watched her eyes roll into the back of her head and close shut.

“Mmmm.” She moaned, puffy cheeked as she chewed her food. A smidgen of embarrassment crept through her when she opened her eyes to find him chuckling at her. She drug her tongue across the corner of her mouth to gather up the splash of mustard that settled there.

“You’re judging me.” She laughed. “Stop! Seriously this is so good. Mmmph. Where did you learn to do this by the way?” She questioned before taking another generous bite.

“This in particular, is something that I have learned here. Primarily from observing the way Murray prepares it, and adding a few ingredients of my own. However, I started cooking as a boy, I was seven years old to be exact.” He remembered.

“Really? Hmm.” She noted surprised.

He pulls his head back slightly. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” She responded, stabbing a forkful of lettuce. “I just didn’t see you as the type with an inclination toward the culinary arts.” She stated.

“Because of my previous dealings as a warmonger.” He asked sarcastically.

Abbie sat her cup down as she lifted her brows. “I did _not_ say that.” She contested, shaking her head at how defensive and guarded he was. “It simply didn’t seem like something you would gravitate towards, just in talking to you.”

“No I understand perfectly, you view me as the sort who would rip the legs off of a frog for fun, rather than for the creation of a delectable cuisine.” He went on, causing Abbie to tilt her head to the side.

“Again, not what I meant.” She said, stretching her eyes out. “I was simply saying from the little you’ve told me about your upbringing, it didn’t seem like something you would have been taught.”  

He can tell now that she meant no harm in her statements and feels a bit foolish for falling into his feelings so quickly. He smiles thinking back upon that time.

“Yes, well in the early going it was very much to my father’s dismay,” He smiled. “But as with all things he adapted. It helped that in time I became a good enough shot, fox-hunting primarily, that his ego was adequately stroked.”

Abbie smiled thinking of another 18th century fellow who’d mentioned he’d spent time fox hunting as well. She wondered if they did so together. “So tell me about it.” She says.

“About my father?”

“Yeah.” She answered. “About all of it, about you.” She’s been here enough to have heard a few of his stories, but they always seem to center around his older years, when he first joined the revolution. He never speaks of the time when he was young. A slight wince breaks through his features, as he decides whether or not he wants to share those parts of himself.    

Nearly an hour later, Abbie has long shoved aside a mostly cleared plate and is listening to Abraham’s stories with delight. Her eyes are brimming with luster, almost as if she can visualize everything he’s telling her about.

“Wait, wait!” She exclaims. “You didn’t tell me how you managed to get the splinters out. Abraham leans back against the booth, clasping his hand around his glass of pop.

“Actually, Ichabod removed them.” He confessed causing Abbie to break down in jerky gasps, imagining Ichabod pulling splinters from his bare ass.

“Why are you laughing, it was terribly, terribly painful, til this day it was one of the most horrid experiences of my life, and as you well know, that is saying a great deal.” Abraham frowns, as Abbie stands to head to the bathroom. She reaches over and squeezes his chin.

“Awww Bramble,” She teases, gently shaking his chin. “I’m just kidding.” She giggles.   There’s surprise and his eyes, and she immediately drops her hand, worried she’d overstepped a boundary by using his nickname. Her mind slips and she can’t really decide what made her think her overly familiar actions would be welcome with someone she barely knows. But she doesn’t quite feel that way, like she barely knows him. In fact she starting to feel that he’s easier to understand than many of the people she’s known a lot longer.

“I’m sorry, I know that’s the name your…the name Elizabeth gave you, I didn’t mean to overstep…” “—No.” He smiles up at her. “It has been quite some time since I have been called by that name, I didn’t realize until just now how much I’ve missed it. It feels good. It makes me feel…rooted somehow.” He decides.

She offers him a closed lipped grin, and pats him on the shoulder before continuing to the restroom. Abraham heads to the kitchen to dish up a serving of the bread pudding he prepared this morning. If she takes dessert, it’s usually apple pie, but he’s hopeful that she will step out of her comfort zone and give his pudding a whirl, especially since he prepared it with her in mind. When he returns to the table he notices one of her bags has slipped beneath the booth, and in reaching to retrieve it half of the contents empty out. His eyes glide across the leaflets and pill bottles as he plucks them from the floor. It doesn’t take long for him to discover the recurring theme through all of the material. The pills are termed prenatal vitamins and though the word is unfamiliar to him he knows that natal is relating to birth, and pre is simply previous to or before.

“Prebirth vitamins.” He mutters under his breath. He glimpses down at the leaflet entitled _Your Pregnancy Week by Week_. “Miss Mills is with child?” He states still looking over the pamphlet.

“The hell do you think you’re doing.” He hears her voice call from behind him.

“Miss Mills, I was merely—umm.” He stumbled, as Abbie angrily snatched the tote from his hands.

“You have no right going through my stuff.” She says gathering up her belongings feeling flustered, and violated. She digs into her purse and tosses a few bills on the table, before turning to go.

“Wait, please.” He says grabbing her shoulder.

“It fell, I would never…I was only picking it up.” He states. “Do not…leave. Please, sit, have dessert with me.” He can see a sadness in her eyes that makes him feel all the more terrible. Her eye’s meet his suspectingly as she covers much of her frame with the tote she’s folded beneath her arms. It’s jarring, the way he feels, how afraid he is that she’ll go, realizing that if she chooses to, she may not return, and he doesn’t know why, but her not returning is unacceptable to him. He has mixed feelings about it, her awareness with him, and he’s ever mindful of what transpired the last time he allowed someone to get close to him. She is starting to know him in a way that no one had in years. He’s terrified and saddened when he considers that if she leaves, it’s plausible that no one ever will again.  

“Please.” He invites again. Holding a hand out in front of the table. Abbie returns to the booth with a heavy plunk. It feels different than it did a few moments ago. She’d been coming here, using this place, these conversations, almost as some sort of break from her real life. No one knew her here, no one expected anything from her, but all of the issues she made a habit of forgetting about while she sat in this booth had followed her, they’d found their way in.

Everything feels heavy now, the air, the room, everything except for her. A jarring hollowness builds through her insides, and it feels almost like she could up and float away. Jenny knows, Irving knows, but she’d made the argument to herself that they needed to. Abraham did not, and the loss of control she felt over him discovering she was pregnant troubled her. The only thing she could think about was Ichabod.    

Abraham studied the faraway expression cover her face. “He’s yet to know.” He stated. Abbie sat back against the booth and shook her head.

“I was going to tell him…I _am_ going to tell him, it’s just…I’m not sure that he wants to know right now.” Abbie sadly explains only to look over across at Abraham and sense an anger rising in him.

“It’s okay we don’t need to talk about it, I know he’s not your favorite person.” She states.

“No, no.” Abraham protests, reaching out to give her hand a quick reassuring squeeze. “You’ve listened to me babble on about nonsense, surely I can grant you this. It’s only…he is so unworthy.”

“He isn’t unworthy, he’s just…”

“—If he has done something to make you feel that he is unable to hear of what should be a most magnificent blessing Abigail, then he is indeed unworthy.” Abraham argues. She can see the irritation in his eyes. He gets this little look that she only sees when they speak of Ichabod, and she’s noticed on several occasions but never spoken of it.

“You know the way you are whenever Katrina comes up? You take on this tone that kind of denotes indifference. You’re never that way when we discuss Ichabod, there’s always this underlying grievance, an _issue_ with him.” She says more-so with her hands and face than anything else.

“Because I take issue with him, he is a scoundrel, and deserving of my contempt.” Abraham proclaimed dismissively.

“I think it’s more than that. I think the reason why you don’t hold the same detestation for Katrina that you do for Ichabod, is because _she_ wasn’t the one who broke your heart…he was.” Abraham stared blankly at her for a moment. Throughout their talks there was always this little brightness in his eyes but now every inch of them grew dark. The silence should have been uncomfortable but having placed her assertions in the open helped her to feel oddly at ease through the tension. Abbie held her gaze to his, waiting for his rebuttal. She watched his get his emotions under control until he dismissed her statement with a small smirk.  

“Are you going to eat, or merely gaze upon your pudding Miss Mills?” He finally asked.

“I.” Abbie starts on a reply ready to press the issue, but forgets it when she notices a familiar black sedan pulling into the parking lot.

“She’s back.” She says quickly grabbing her plate and drink before scooting to the next empty booth. She quickly ran back to grab her back before returning to her seat directly behind Abraham.

“Miss Mills, what are you doing, get back over here this instant.” He pleads.

“Not a chance. Today is the day, you’re going to man up and say something to her.” Abbie insisted.

“I absolutely will not.” He retorts, quietly. “I have nothing to offer, and furthermore, I would never know where to begin.”

“Tell her the truth. Tell her that you find her breathtaking, because you do, you stop breathing when she walks in, tell her that.” Abbie haggled. “Tell her some of the things you’ve told me like how you love the way her eyes twinkle whenever she reads that poetry book of hers.” She advises, before twisting around excitedly.

“Ooh tell her that you enjoy reading poetry as well.”

“But I don’t.” He said through gritted teeth, watching the woman reach for the door.

“Then lie!” Abbie orders.

“Tell the truth, or lie, which is it?” Abraham asks nervously as the brunette enters the diner.

“Say whatever you need to say, just don’t let her get away again.” Abbie whispers, turning back around.

Abraham stands to his feet. “Hello Miss Pandora, fancy seeing you here once again.”

She approached him offering a shy wave. “I believed you to be employed here, are you not?”

“No, or rather yes of course,” He stumbles bringing his hand to his head. “This is actually a temporary station, simply for the time being.”

Abbie loudly cleared her throat. “I mean..yes, I work here.” He says, wanting to kick himself.

“Oh.” She smiles. “Excuse me a moment.” Pandora says heading to the counter to pick up her order.

“Ask her to join you.” He barely hears Abbie eek out from behind him. He smiles like a madman when Pandora looks back catching his eye. He replies to Abbie through his strained smile.

“If she were interested in staying she would not have ordered carry away. Perhaps she has grown tired of the two of us gawking at her day after day.”

“Or maybe she’s waiting for you to give her a reason to stay.” Abbie replies, just as Pandora returns.

“Well it was lovely seeing you.” She said donning an ingratiating smile.

“Likewise.” He smiles with a nod, but stops her just as she’s about to leave. “Miss Pandora, I realize that you do not know me very well at all, and that this may seem a bit odd, but I was wondering if perhaps you might like to….” Pandora turns her eyes up to his bearing a hopeful smile that melts his heart. _What of value could she possibly find in you_? He wonders.

“To—to take a few extra napkins.” He falters, and her smile slips for a moment before she forces herself to pull it back up. He looks down at her container.

“The wings can create quite an impossible mess.” He adds, feeling like a complete lunatic.

“Oh, no thank you. I believe I have plenty.” She replied quietly. “See you then.” She said with a wave.

“Yes.   See you.” He states weakly.

Abbie was out of her booth before the door even closed, slapping him in the shoulder. “Would you like some more napkins?!” She repeated incredulously.

Abraham looked down at her with a defensive pout. “The wings are rather messy.”

Abbie pops him again. “You’re horrible at this.”    

 

* * *

 

Ichabod stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting as the boys ran up to Delton’s room in search of his epinephrine pen and inhaler. Delton recalled his mom reminding him to get it this morning but somehow he forgot. Ichabod remembered as soon as they grew hungry because Abbie never allowed him to eat at restaurants without having it on hand. Once they were out of sight he crept into the kitchen and stealthily pulled the petty cash cookie jar away from the wall. He tugged the envelope from his jacket pocket and broke the mustard and white strap covering the hundred dollar bills and dumped them into the jar. He quickly followed the same method, separating the brown and white strap from the fifties he’d brought as well. He looked inside of the jar, reaching his hands inside to loosen the bills, and try to blend them with the other currency.

“Ahem.” He heard from behind him sending him nearly a foot into the air. He turned toward the direction of the disturbance and raised a hand to his chest.

“Miss Jenny,” He breathed somewhat relieved. He straightened himself out, and raised a finger. “This, I can assure you this is not as it appears to be—this is not as it looks.” He stuttered, feeling like he’d been caught committing a crime.

Jenny placed to piece of chicken she’d been munching on back to her plate and licked the excess crust off of her thumb.

“Really because it looks to me like you’re shoving wads of dough into Abbie’s petty cash.”

“I..” Ichabod mouth opens a few seconds before words find their way out. He was certain it would have looked as though he were taking money. “You are correct.” He answered, brushing his disheveled hairs from his face.

“She’s going to know.” Jenny said taking another bite of food. “And she isn’t gonna be happy about it.”

“She need not know lest you tell her.” Ichabod stated moving forward. “Is that.” The oven timer went off. “Abbie’s fried chicken.”

“Mm hmm.” Jenny said sucking the meat from a bone.

“But she never prepares fried chicken.” Ichabod muttered under his breath. They begged incessantly, but in the entire time he’d been with her she’d only fried it three times. First she rarely allowed them to eat fried food and when she did she preferred picking up a bucket instead of frying it herself. As much as they tried to explain to her that hers was far and away the best fried chicken on the planet, she never seemed to really grasp it. It somehow managed to be flavorful, and spicy, juicy, crispy, and flaky all at the same time, eating it, for Ichabod was a celestial experience. He opened up the door to the oven and nearly shed a tear.

“Her homemade macaroni and cheese.” A chill slipped down his spine. “Wait does this mean there are…” Did he allow himself to dream?

Jenny shook her head. “In the fridge.” She smiled. “I don’t see how you guys eat those things, yuck.”

Ichabod walked over to the fridge and pulled out the container of greens, and a zip-lock full of cornbread. Abbie always used a mixture, collards, mustards, and upon last occasion she added a few fistfuls of kale greens to the pot. All of which she seasoned and delightfully flavored with turkey wings in replacement of the high fat content of pork. Ichabod peeled open the top, and closed his eye’s inhaling the aroma. He’d asked her on one occasion why she never used boxed cornbread as it was much simpler, and he learned rather quickly that Jiffy was a bad word in this house. She insisted the only proper way to prepare it was from scratch, and set it to bake in a cast iron skillet. He could already taste it in his mouth moistened with juice drippings from his greens.

The boys came running downstairs having located Delton’s epipen, and found him in the kitchen surrounded by platters of food.

“Smells good. Are we eating here?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes.” Ichabod answered emphatically.

A little while later Jenny sat at the table reading, looking on as they finally appeared to be slowing down. She never really understood what Crane did with all of the food he ate, at times watching him eat bordered on grotesques. The boys finished up their food, and were excused to shoot a couple of hoops while Ichabod finished up.

He dropped his final chicken wing bone to his plate and sat back utterly stuffed. A lazy grin grew from his lips to his eyes.

“Absolute perfection, I _adore_ your sister.” He stated, with unrestrained conviction. Jenny burst into laughter listening to his greedy ass.

“You’re a pig, and I know.” She smiled. Ichabod watched as the smile faded, and grew to a sizable frown.

“What is it?” He asked, growing alarmed. “Where is she, is she not well?”

“She’s fine.” Jenny answered, wanting to say more, but not daring to. “I don’t know where she is, we went for a walk earlier and then I went to my interview, when I came back she was gone. Knowing her she’s using the free time to run a few errands or something. So how is everything going with you? Abbie says you and Katrina are looking at real estate, you guys buying a house together.” She asked.

“I am purchasing a home for Katrina and Jeremy. Not actually with her. She will own it.” He answered. “How was your interview?” He asked, changing the subject.

“I don’t know, part of me thinks I might get a call, the other part thinks I fucking bombed. You know, there’s a lot of things I’m really good at, I’m just not sure that those things will translate into assets that will help me with employment.”

“I understand.” He says feeling bad for her situation. “Come work with me.” He offers.

“Ichy, that’s really good of you, but I can’t, I don’t know the first thing about application development.” She responds.

“We are doing more, in a sense. We are embarking upon a task we hope…no we are certain is going to revolutionize education. There is a great deal that you can do to help us realize our goals. Further I need to be surrounded by smart, capable, trustworthy, individuals. You are all of those things, and you are family, who can I trust more?”

Jenny felt sick. She wanted to tell him, he really had become a brother to her. “I don’t know, I’m kind of trying to find my own way, can I think about it?” She asked.

“Take all of the time you need, a spot will remain forever available for you.” He stated.

“Thanks Ichy.” She nodded before standing to head out of the kitchen. “And just for future reference, Abbie only puts ones, and occasionally fives in the petty cash, so the hundred’s and fifties are kind of a dead giveaway.” She advised.

“Also,” she stated walking over to the refrigerator and removing a medium sized container. “Blackberry cobbler,” she smiled. “I hid it, I’m sorry.” She laughed.

“Miss Jenny!” He exclaimed.

“What can I say I’m selfish, and your bony butt son tried to eat it all up yesterday.” She smiled.

 

  

Ichabod pulled into the department store parking lot and turned around to remind the boys of what he’d instructed.

“You may each choose a few toys, however take care not to exceed the amount you’ve available to spend.” This would be one of their first exercises in managing the funds they’d acquired from completing their chores. His tone turned bitter. “It is especially of import to bear in mind that _tax_ will be added to your purchases and you will need to calculate the total fee accordingly. I am certain that you are both as outraged as I at the unconscionable levy placed upon goods, it is one of the most unmerited acquisitions of”

“—DAD!” The boys yelled from the backseat, having learned firsthand that once he started in on a tirade about taxes whole hours could vanish into thin air.

“Oh yes.” He stated realizing he’d gotten sidetracked. “Shall we take our leave gentlemen?”

“Yeah!” They boys cheered still hopped up on the candy he’d gotten them when they stopped at the gas station. The store seemed pretty busy for the middle of a weekday, he quickly came to the realization that they were having a forty percent off sale. He stepped a few isles over peeking into the sporting goods section trying to give the boys a little freedom to make their selections. Jeremy drifted towards a new remote control car but quickly discovered that he didn’t have enough money to purchase it. He instead picked up a cowboy package which included a hat, two toy pistols, and a rope.

“Cool!” He stated staring at the toys. He checked the price, delighted that he had enough and went to show Delton.

“D look at this one. Neat huh?” He asked. Delton smiled at him growing excited.

“Yeah that’s pretty sweet. I should get one too, then we can play cops and robbers!” He exclaimed. “Did they have any others, show me where you got it.”

Jeremy took his brother to the spot he’d found them. Delton was elated when he found a package with a sheriff’s badge, a hat, and a toy pistol. He scooped it up and he and Jeremy headed to the next aisle over to show Ichabod.

“Dad I want this one.” Delton chimed. Ichabod looked down at the toy, and immediately frowned. Abbie had stated before that Delton wasn’t allowed to play with toy guns under any circumstances.

“Delton you know your mum and I do not believe that toy guns are suitable toys.”

“Aww dad please, look it has a badge inside just like mom’s, I was going to be the sheriff, and Jeremy’s going to be the bad guy. We want to play cops and robbers.”

“Delton.” Ichabod cautioned.

“Plus you said yourself you had a real hunting gun when you were just a little older than us, please, we’ll be extra, extra careful.” They both promised. Ichabod looked down at the orange tipped black plastic gun and sighed. It was primarily Abbie’s rule that Delton not play with toy guns, Ichabod wanted him to be able to learn everything he’d learned to do as a boy. Much of what he learned about tracking came from spending time hunting with his father. Perhaps under guided care, it wouldn’t be an issue. He took the package from his son’s hands.

“Give me a moment.” He stated walking over to the toy isle to see if they had something that was more orange, and less black.

Jeremy reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out one of the pieces of sour gum he’d gotten from the gas station. His face shriveled and pruned up trying to combat the bitterness as he ate it.

“Oh my gosh D, did you eat your green gumball yet?”

“Uh-uh.”

“You have to try it, it’s so good, and sooo sour.” Jeremy attested.

Delton reached into his pocket to retrieve the piece of candy, and the next thing he knew a large hand snatched the back of his hoody. Both boys froze eyes wide with fear, as the man locked his hand around Delton’s arm.

“What do you have there?” He stated gripping his arm.

“Huh?” A bewildered Delton replied. “Um nothing. Just gum. Please, I didn’t do anything.”

“We’ll see about that, come with me.” He stated starting to pull Delton along with him.

“Unhand him!” Ichabod roared just as he returned to the aisle.

“Excuse me?”

“Remove your hand from my son, this instant.” Ichabod threatened, approaching at full speed.

The man released Delton’s arm, and turned completely to face Ichabod. Jeremy watches as the other security agent pulls out a walkie-talkie and calls for back up. He looks at his father and knows it won’t be enough.

“Dad.” He says nervously, sensing his anger. Ichabod is now standing in-between him, his brother and the man.

“Sir, I am with the loss prevention department, and we have reason to believe that your—did you say he was your son? Well that he’s stolen or was attempting to steal merchandise.

“Poppycock.” Ichabod spat. “My son is not a thief, he was not attempting to, nor stealing anything.” He seethed. “What’s more is I saw you watching him from the moment he entered this establishment.” By now there’s a small crowd of people gathering around including some of the requested backup.

“Sir, sir.” The man stated holding his hands up in front of him. “I saw him reach his hands into his hoody.”

“Are you suggesting that placing one’s hands inside of one’s pocket is now evidence of thievery?” Ichabod probed.

“I was just getting my gum dad, honest.” Delton said, temporarily breaking out of his shock. Ichabod turned to look at his sons.

“Worry not Delton, I know.” He stated, before returning his attention to the man in front of him. “Tell me, did you not notice his younger brother placing his hands into his pocket as he retrieved the same candy that Delton was in search of. Surely at some point he did, his lips are now green, and they most certainly were not when we first arrived.”

“Sir, I understand that you’re upset, but this is just a mix-up, I simply saw, uh”—Ichabod tilted his head to the side knowing exactly what the man was trying not to say.  

“The African American one? Or the black one, is that the word in which you are searching for?”

“No, no, no. Sir.”

“Yes. It. Is. At least have the decency to admit it. I want you to inform me of the specific reason for which you were watching my son. The reason why you were so quick to falsely accuse and apprehend him, while ignoring the actions of his brother, which you claim are the same actions upon which you’ve based your accusations.” Ichabod demanded.

“I..I” The man stuttered.

“Tell me what is the difference between them that the one should be watched and suspected and not the other. It cannot be their manner of dress, as all can clearly see they are clothed in near identical fashion right down to the soles of their feet. The only difference betwixt the two is the color of their jackets, so what else did you find different that rendered my son culpable in your infantile brain?” Ichabod growled. He still wasn’t over him putting his hands on Delton, and wanted nothing more than to lay him out. Ironically the only thing keeping him from doing so was the same reason he was ready to fight, his sons.

And older gentlemen cut cautiously in between them seeing that things were approaching a boiling point.

“Sir my name is Jim, I’m the manager of the Toy Department. It appears there’s been some sort of a misunderstanding, I’m sure Dave was simply doing his job.” Ichabod twisted his head and looked at the man with unfurled anger.

I demand to speak with the store director.” Ichabod stated with pure ice in his eyes, and fire blazing through his veins. It was only after speaking with the director that some resolution came. When it was all said and done, Ichabod had threatened legal action, realizing that he was in the unique situation of having Jeremy there as almost a placebo. He persuaded them to pull the security footage, and he watched with the director pointing out how Delton was singled out from the moment they entered the store.  

“Sir. I’m sorry. We try to follow certain guidelines to make sure that we are not operating in a discriminatory manner, clearly we have more work to do. How can we make this right?”

“To start you can mandate that your loss prevention team implements a method of discovering criminals based upon criteria that does not include their race. That is the only thing that will make any of this right. In fact,” Ichabod said reaching into his pocket, “If you need pointers the chief of the Sleepy Hollow Police Department has developed an excellent training program for various levels of law enforcement. Perhaps your organization should give him a call.”

“Thank you.” He said taking the card. “We will, again sir I am deeply sorry about this.” The man restates.

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to my son, both of them, your practices have done a great disservice to, and hurt the both of them. By subjectively profiling and discriminating against the one, you are creating a privilege within the other, and by such, furthering a doctrine of inequity that causes one to feel that he is less than he actually is, while making the other feel as though he is more.”

The man turned to the boys seated in chairs along his office wall and apologize for the events that transpired.

“Mr. Crane, I have the toys the young men had earlier. I had the manager of the department send them up front, along with a few other things. Let us get those for you on the house.”

“No. That is unnecessary, the completion of what we discussed will be satisfactory.” Ichabod refused walking the boys from the office. Once inside of the car Delton and Jeremy eyed each other both of them still wondering a little bit if they were going to get their toys today. Delton spoke up first, as a hesitant Jeremy had a feeling they shouldn’t bother.

“Um Dad, are we going to go somewhere else to get the toys because we wanted to play cops and robbers today.” Delton chimed.

“No.” Ichabod said dryly, just before putting the car into drive.

“But please dad, you said we could spend some of our allowance.” Delton pleaded.

“You did say Dad,” Jeremy added, protesting alongside his brother. Ichabod’s stomach twisted, as he fought to wrangle the myriad of emotions whirling through him.   He tightened his fingers around the steering wheel in a last ditch attempt to stop them from twitching, but to no avail. He lightly closed his eyes for a moment trying to gather himself as the boys begged to go to another toy store from the back seat.

“—NO!” Ichabod hollered, causing them to dig back against their seats. He threw the car in park, and turned to face them.

“No toy guns, no real guns, no guns whatsoever, is that understood?”

“But..” Delton started.

“Is that understood?” He boomed sternly when they didn’t reply right away.

Thick tears streamed down Delton’s face as he replied through gritted teeth. “Yes sir.” He answered immediately turning his face toward the window. He kept his eyes cast outside of the car the entire way home.

Ichabod drove in silence feeling terrible for raising his voice, but he was viewing things from a new reality.

Delton was out of the car the second after Ichabod put it in park. He darted up the steps to the front door and made a bee line for his room with Jeremy close on his heels.”

Abbie looked up from the basket of laundry she was folding as they whizzed by her. “Hey.” She called, but they were already at the top of the stairs. She was on the bottom step when Ichabod came in wearing a face that looked like it held a thousand broken hearts, and she knew something was wrong.

“What happened?” She asked mouth open with alarm, he didn’t reply but simply kept moving steadily toward her.

“Baby what’s wrong?” She questioned again but he remained silent, keeping in step until he was directly in front of the stairs and she was in his arms.   Ichabod leaned forward squeezing a worried Abbie to his body, needing the immediate comfort that her touch provided. He knew that he needed to go up to Delton’s room, that he needed to talk to him about everything that happened, but first he had to gather his strength, and so much of it he found in her. At first Abbie begin to grow frantic because of how tightly he was holding her, but when she felt his warm, heavy, calming breaths against the crook of her neck she knew that neither he nor the boys were in any imminent danger. He wasn’t ramping up, he was coming down from something, and as much as she wanted to know what that something was she understood that in this moment he needed something to hold on to, and she was it. She rolled her fingers up through his hair, waiting patiently for his nerves to settle.

“It’s okay.” She said rubbing her fingertips up his back. “It’s okay.” She repeated having no idea what it was but knowing whatever the case may be they would conquer it together. True to his word he hadn’t seen her in a little over a week, discounting glimpses of her walking through the living room as he came to in fro in carriage of Delton. He tightened his hold around her in anticipation of having to let her go. A few quick squeezes later he released her, finally ready to speak.

“What happened?”  A glossy eyed Abbie asked.

He told her the story of what occurred at the store, having to stop her on a few occasions from running up the stairs to Delton, before he had a chance to finish. She was needless to say terribly upset by it all. But Ichabod was most upset for an entirely different reason.

“I almost allowed him purchase a toy gun, because when I look at him I simply see my son, my sweet, brilliant boy who loves everyone, and would never, ever cause harm to another.” Abbie’s heart broke as she watched the tears filling Ichabod’s eyes.

“But there are those who look upon him, and instead of viewing him as the innocent child he is, they think he is a criminal or evil, and I almost bought him a toy gun. He could have been killed, I almost purchased him something that could have gotten him killed.” Abbie looked on as the weight of Ichabod’s words sank into him. “Ergo I nearly killed him today.” He stated, nothing more over a whisper, unable to hold back his tears.”

“Don’t say that.” Abbie cried. “If some monster is untrained, and guns down an innocent child they are the killers, not the parents.” She stated holding his head between her hands. “But…I know what you mean, and he just can’t. He can’t play in that way, because sadly as a black male people are already threatened by him.” She stated, wiping her tears. “And I can’t Ichabod, I already worry so much, and we can’t risk that, we talked about this.”

“I know.” He stated pulling her back into his arms. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, understanding in a new way why she had so vehemently refused to allow him to play with such toys before. Ichabod was so upset he couldn’t stop shaking.   He’d seen the news, read reports of how young, black, men and boys were being slain in the streets, many times by law enforcement or overzealous civilians. Just a few months ago he’d heard a story about a boy only a few years older being gunned down by police whilst playing with a toy gun. None of it made any sense to him, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around how a child, who caused no physical harm or injury to anyone was shot and killed, while a grown man who slaughtered a dozen people in a movie theater was led away in cuffs, and given his day in court. Where was the justice in it, he wondered. Even with that knowledge that all of that had occurred, he somehow convinced himself that such happenings were more isolated then they truly were. Perhaps it was his hope in people, in the good of humanity, whatever the case, in doing so he failed to fully grasp that such a reality of it all. To realize how some others would view, weigh, and unfavorably rate his son based solely upon the color of his skin infuriated and frightened him to near unspeakable levels. He stood there fighting to control that anger, and fear, wondering how he would teach his son to survive as a black male in a country that made being such so much more difficult than it ought to be.

After a few minutes he and Abbie made their way up to Delton’s room. He spoke first making sure Delton understood that he wasn’t angry with him, but rather afraid for him. It sickened him to explain to his sons why everything happened in the store the way in which it did. They were so young and innocent, they didn’t see the world that way, and he hated that they had to grow up a little more than he wanted them to that day. When he finished he sat on the bed next to the boys and listened as Abbie took over the conversation. He was in awe of how beautiful she was with them, talking to Delton and even Jeremy about some of the issues that they might encounter in the future, all the while making certain that they had an appreciation of their value, of how special and important and worthy they were. By the time she finished talking to them it was apparent the boys believed that they could change the world. He sat back listening as she imparted to them the same mentality and spirit that dwelled within her. She was a conqueror, and under her tutelage he knew that his sons would become the same. They both held their heads a little higher when she was done speaking. She dried their tears, kissed their faces, and informed them that what happened earlier would not claim this day. “We are going to start this day anew, and make it our own.” She promised. Still, the only thing Ichabod could think about was their safety, and he would do anything necessary to ensure it. Paranoia running rampant he briefly considered hiring a security team to keep them safe when he couldn’t be present, whatever it took. He knew deep down he couldn’t, that he couldn’t protect them from everything, and Abbie would never allow it anyhow.

**_Later that day_**.

He wasn’t leaving that night, Abbie knew it just to look at him. They’d spent all afternoon with the boys. Some of that time spent playing outside, but now they’d moved things into the basement playing cards and board-games. Abbie watched as Ichabod stepped away to inform Katrina of the change in plans. He realized they were supposed to get a move on first thing in the morning, but he assured her that he would arrive with plenty of time to spare.  

“But that was the entire purpose of Jeremy spending the night with Miss Mills was it not. So that we could squeeze in as many home viewings as possible.” She argued, stepping back and turning to look at the candlelit meal she’d prepared.

“I assure you that we will view every home upon your list.” Ichabod promised.

“Also I thought we were to discuss Jeremy’s progress in therapy this evening.” She complained, hoping that he might change his mind.

“I understand that, and we shall, though I simply cannot this evening.” He said cupping a hand over his ear to hear her through the noise of the kids playing in the background.

He glanced over at Abbie, and quickly did a double take after catching Abbie glaring at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Katrina I shall see you first thing in the morrow, have a pleasant evening.” He said hanging up the phone. He returned to the family room, and reclaimed his seat on the floor in between Abbie and Jeremy, rapidly scooping up his colorful hand of cards. At first he was seated next to Delton, but Abbie made them change seats after she suspected them of cheating during the third round of UNO.

“If you gotta go, you gotta go.” Abbie said faking indifference as she organized the cards in her hand.

“I am precisely where I should be.” He replied, knowing she wasn’t as unbothered as she pretended to be. “Now, whose turn is it to go first?” He smiled.

Twenty minutes later Ichabod belted out “UNO” with sheer delight. He was threatening to win for the third time in a row. No poker face in sight, he was positively giddy watching everyone play in anticipation of his turn.   He flashed a cocky smile at Abbie, already aware that her last remaining card was red, whilst the current color was yellow.

“Do you need to draw a card?” He teased, sliding the deck closer to her. Abbie slapped his hand off the deck and pulled her card.

“Ha.” She yelled, slapping down a draw four. “What’s up now?!” She boasted leaning in his face.

“Oh wait do you need help drawing your cards, let me help you out with that.” She said sliding him four cards from the top of the deck. “Annnnd the color is red.” She smiled, doing a little happy dance in her seat.

Ichabod’s ears burned of embarrassment, he was certain he’d won, and Abbie would never let him live this defeat down due to his braggadocios behavior. He _had_ to win. He looked to the boys.

“Is there none among you with a wild card, or perhaps a draw two, or four, a reverse, anything?” He felt the sting of Abbie’s palm slapping against his shoulder.

“Stop talking across the table, that’s cheating.” She warned.

“Ouch! There _is_ no table!” He commented, noting that they were all crossed legged upon the floor.

“You know what I mean.” Abbie stated before breaking into song. “I’m gonna win-in, I’m gonna win-in, cause girls ru-le, that’s right we ru-le.” She sang snapping her fingers.

“Uno Miss Abbie.” Jeremy said quietly, across from her.

“Oh Jeremy sweetie, you have to wait until you get down to one card to call Uno.” Abbie explained gently.

“I know, you never called Uno, that means that you must draw two cards correct?”

Ichabod’s eyes nearly danced out of their sockets. “HUZZAH! He shouted as Abbie’s mouth fell open. “Well done Jeremy, well done indeed.” He cheered.

”NOOOOOOO!” Abbie shrieked, burying her head in her hands as the three of them high-fived each other. She couldn’t believe she’d gotten so busy talking junk to Ichabod she forgot to follow the basic rules of the game. It was okay, it was just two cards, all she needed was to play smart, and she could still win this thing. _That_ was what she hoped but somehow within the next two minutes Ichabod managed to claim Uno and go out. She tried to be the bigger person—a little, she said good game, even though her face was torn all the way up when she said it. But Ichabod, being Ichabod couldn’t just take his victory, he came for her soul. He was so hyped up he actually stood his leggy ass over her talking shit.

“I believe the correct statement is girls drool, and boys rule!” He exclaimed to a round of cheers.

She hated him. And she was done playing UNO and everything else with him because he was a giant fucking asshole, and a poor sport. _Seriously who doesn’t even let the kids win_ , she thought. _Okay, okay I was playing to win too, but that’s beside the point_. She folded her arms across her chest huffing out air, while the kids cracked up at their father’s antics. Abbie started gathering up the cards, stuffing them back into the box, while the boys fell over holding their ribs in laughter because of how irritated she’d gotten.

She stood up, and pushed Ichabod out of the way in an attempt to put the game away but he grabbed her.

“Abbie.” He tried to say seriously, but couldn’t quite hold in his laughter.

“Get off of me.” She smirked, casually brushing his hand away.

“Oh Apple, be not discouraged, for there is always tomorrow.” He eked out through barely stifled laughter, pausing just enough to hear her tell him to go to hell on her way up the stairs. She did eventually forgive him. After they’d had their fun he followed her upstairs to the kitchen and found her looking for something to get around for dinner.

“Nope.” She said stepping back and folding her arms when he tried to touch her. Ichabod couldn’t help but smile, she was constantly beating him in sport, it made him relish in victory all the more. She _hated_ losing. He held his hands up as if he had no intention of touching her, but wrapped them around her from behind as soon as she turned her back to him.

“Let go.” She requested. He leaned his head against hers.

“Only after I am forgiven.”

“Forgiven?” She laughed. “You’re not even sorry, I can literally hear you smiling.” She grinned.

“I am sorry…sorry that boys rule, and girls drool.” He teased, gripping her tighter as she struggled a little to break free. He leaned back, resting them against the counter.

“Fine if forgiveness is too much to ask for I will settle for your admittance that I am unquestionably the most superior UNO player in the history of the game’s establishment, in lieu of that, I shall settle upon a kiss, and your captivating company with the boys and I over pizza.”

Abbie softly chuckled. “Fine let go.” She turned around looking up at his grinning face.

“I’m waiting.” He stated smugly.

Abbie started out in a dry ho-hum manner. “Ichabod Crane you are the..”

“—Oh no, no, no. With feeling, and sincerity, I want to feel that you truly mean it.” He interrupted bearing a smug grin, and her heart pounded mercilessly as she looked up at his handsome features.  

“Ichabod Crane, I want you to know from the absolute bottom of my heart that I have found it to be true without mistake or question, that you….” He grinned widely and raised his chin waiting for her to bestow upon him the requested praises.

“Ain’t shit.” She stood to her tip toes, and pulled his pouting lips to hers before he had a chance to protest.

“There’s your kiss, because I’m not saying that other crap.” She mumbled against his lips. Ichabod laughed lightly feeling his heart swell, as he held her in his embrace. She was the only one who could make an insult feel so good. He leaned forward and pulled her into a smoldering kiss, the way he kissed her when he wanted to tell her how much he loved her without saying a word. By the time they broke her ears were ringing, and the only thing she heard were their muted heavy breaths. She was wobbly and his arms tightening around her let her know that he was aware of it. She slowly opened her eyes, taking shelter in his grasp as the room stopped spinning.

His long digits curled into a possessive grasp around her curvy hips. “And yet I have your heart.” He said with a quiet confidence.

Abbie sighed, blushing. “And yet, you have my everything.” She whispered, sliding her fingertips to his shoulders.

“What is this?” She asked softly, looking up to his eyes. She needed to know that her oldest friend was still her truest, she needed to know that he wasn’t still angry with her.

“A truce.” He said, quickly adding, “For the day” when he saw the way her face lit up. “Allowing the both of us to spend time together in the company of our son.” He can see from the expression upon her face that she is unhappy about it.

Abbie pressed her hands against his abdomen and gently pushed away. “And then what, back to the silent treatment.” She asks. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

“War is not fair.” He reminded her, reaching his hands around her and pulling her back. “What comes of the morrow, and every day thereafter is based solely upon you.”

She hears him but she doesn’t agree. There’s so much that she could say. She could tell him how wounded she is that he won’t see her, that it makes her to feel that if their bond can’t be the way that _he_ wants it to be, then it can’t be at all.  She could tell him that a part of her feels that had she allowed him into her bed last week he wouldn’t have stopped speaking to her at all, and honestly that’s what hurts the most. She could tell him that in spite of feeling this way, she loves him more than ever, and still can’t figure out how to make her heart be still when he’s standing this close, and smelling so good. She could tell him that she’s had her fill of war, and even if she hadn’t she would never consider waging one against him. But she doesn’t say anything. This is something she learned at a young age how to do, to be quiet when there were things she wished to say. The older she got the more she realized that it was just as important as making sure her voice was heard and valued. There were others now, four bright, innocent, eyes, along with equally numbered, deceptively percipient ears just down the stairs, and hers was a voice that along with Ichabod’s they would come to hear inside of their heads. She tries to remain mindful of that, just as she’s mindful that their little bellies are probably as hungry as hers is, and anything she says of substance will compel a conversation that will place their nourishment on hold. A conversation that hadn’t changed since the first time she and Ichabod had it, a dance that had already been set, turn for turn, to a song that never seemed to change its tune. She pushes her feelings down and finds the grace to move past them for the moment. They’ve been happy today, she wants that to continue.  

“This truce you speak of,” She cooed slinking her bones against him. “How big of a truce are we talking about?”    

Ichabod’s brow inched upward. “Not that big.” He teased, causing them both to chuckle at his goofiness. Her stomach growled reminding her of her growing hunger, and his hand quickly slides across her belly sending her abdominal muscles jumping from his touch.

“You’re half starved.” He remarked at hearing the noise. Her heart thumps, even though she’s almost positive he won’t be able to notice a difference. At least she hopes. At six weeks, she’s already feeling horribly bloated to the point that she took off her jeans thirty seconds after she put them on this morning and opted to go with tights.

“Is there something that you would like to discuss?” He questions rubbing his hands up her shoulders.

She flat-lines. “No.” she responds, pulse racing. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…distracted.” He states.

“No, just hungry, tired.” She replies.

He brushes a thumb across her cheek, before laying a small kiss over her lips. He gave a quick nod toward the door, hands locked around her hips.

“Gather your shoes and purse, and I shall collect the boys.” He states with a swift swat across her bottom.

Abbie rose to her tip toes and pecked his lips. “Okay.” She smiles gently, leaving him to get her things.     

 


	26. The Point of It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey All! Did I say this would be up yesterday? Lol, Sry :-(. I fell asleep trying to proofread but I got through it today. Thank you all for reading, and comments and your interest in this story. I appreciate it all. I am aware that Old Mother Hubbard, and works of Alexis de Tocqueville were not contemporary to Ichabod. Just writing. You will notice the little jump ahead at the end of the chapter. It will be filled in. I have a couple of pages to write to complete chapter 27. I will try to finish, edit, proofread, soon. Thank's again, and I hope you enjoy the chapter. :-)!

The issues between Ichabod and Abbie took a backseat as they piled the boys into the car and went out for pizza. It was easy with them, having fun, they never had to try to entertain one another it just naturally happened. Dinner was full of conversation, laughter, and hand holding beneath the table that made Abbie so much happier than she cared to admit. On the way home the boys harassed Ichabod until he turned up Fetty Wap and Drake’s _My Way_ , and she couldn’t stop laughing at his concern over their infatuation with it.

“It is my favorite father, please turn it up!” Jeremy begged, as if he would die if Ichabod didn’t grant his request. Ichabod partially blamed Abbie as she’d purchased them iPod’s earlier in the week. Abbie reached out and pressed the button to increase the volume, and the boys bounced and sang in the backseat. The happiness that came from back there spread a smile across her face. The boys had turned their day around, and she couldn’t have been more proud, but reclaiming her day would be a little more difficult. She thought a moment about the way everything had been happening, about how she and Ichabod just couldn’t seem to connect. Little flat distances seemed like miles and mountains. His refusal to see her had raised bones long buried, feelings she hadn’t felt since she was a little girl had started creeping back in. She knew that she’d pulled the anchor, and raised the sail, set all of this in motion. He didn’t like the direction she was travelling in, and truth be told neither did she. She knew where she wanted to go, where _she needed_ to go, but there were iceberg’s all around and she couldn’t quite navigate her way through it. No matter how hard she thought about things she couldn’t decide which way to turn the wheel. None of him wasn’t an option, it never was, she had to have at least a friendship with him, some sort of interaction, but he couldn’t be in that space with her. He couldn’t be her friend.  

Later that evening Ichabod and Abbie sat huddled together on the sofa while the boys spread out in front of the TV. Her knees were curled up against her chest while she leaned into him, comforted in the feel of his fingertips dragging up and down her back as they watched Finding Nemo. With the help of Ichabod the boys talked Abbie into allowing them to stay up a full hour past Delton’s usual bedtime so they could finish watching Goonies. Though the incident at the store occurred several hours before, Ichabod still couldn’t help but think about it as he tucked the kids into bed. He stayed in the room, sitting in silence as they drifted off to sleep before returning to the basement for Abbie. He was surprised to find her absent from the couch where he’d left her sleeping. By the time he found his way to their room she was slipping into her pajamas. He watched as she stretched her arms through an oversized t-shirt, he stood in the doorway gazing at her as the cotton fabric fell over her full breasts. He started into the room, reclosing the door behind him.

“I went to the basement to retrieve you. I do not want you to believe that it was my intention to allow you to remain asleep upon the sofa. I ushered the boys up to bed, and when I returned you were gone.” He stated, unable to help but feel a little sad that he didn’t get to carry her up. It was one of the many things he missed, seeing her up here without his aid was a reminder of how little she actually needed him.

“Yeah Delton has really helped curve my light’s out tendencies. I have to see him off to sleep so I can’t very well crash as hard as I used to.” She commented. They were silent for a while, she stood in front of her vanity applying her nightly face cream when she took notice of him staring behind her. She walked over and took a seat upon the bed.

“Hey.” Abbie said gazing across the room, taking stock of the sorrowful gaze painting Ichabod’s eyes. “He’s going to be okay you know.” She pledged.

Ichabod nodded. “I pray to God that is true.” He stated walking over and taking a seat beside her. He reached out and slipped his hand around her, pulling her into his arms.

“What I do know is that I will do everything in my power to ensure that nothing ever happens to him, to any of you, I swear it.” He added tightening his hold on her.

Abbie ran her small fingers over the hair covering his face. “I know.” She replied resting her head against his chest. They sat for a moment through a disquieting silence that seemed to say more than words could have.

“You can’t blame yourself.” She said after a while, without even looking at him. When she did she could see it in his eyes.

“I should have done more. Fought harder. _Years_ ago.” He stated, shaking his head in disgust.

“You did fight. You forget that I have read one of the treatise you wrote calling for an end to slavery. You stood up for what you believed in, at a time when the masses held a belief that was in direct opposition to it. You did what you could do, when you could do it. What happened with D today, was a reflection of the pervasiveness of that sickened mentality. Things people hold to as truths even when there is no basis for it. A part of it will always be there, we can fight it, I think we have a duty to try to eradicate it through compassion, through love, through education, which by the way you have an opportunity to make an impact upon, but this….beating yourself up, I won’t let you _do_ this to yourself. You’re a good man, and a spectacular father, and that is all that matters to him.”  

“I want so badly to protect him from it all, to never allow anything like this to ever touch him again.” Abbie grabbed his hands stopping him from fidgeting.  

She spoke in a soft, slow voice. “Every parent wants to project their child from all of the harsh realities of life, and a lot of it we _can_ shield them from, but all of it….” Abbie sighed. “We just need to be here for him, and help him learn to see his way through it and emerge a little bit stronger, a little bit wiser.”

A long cleansing sigh toppled from Ichabod’s lips as her words, and her touch began to soothe him. She always knew the precise manner in which to place his soul at ease. Abbie lay back against the pillows taking his hand and calling him to her, offering herself as a pillow upon which he could rest his head. He wanted to lay down beside her, pull her into his arms and forget the world existed, but he couldn’t.

“I should take leave to the guest room to allow you to rest.” He said raising to his feet. “Sleep well.” He bent to press his lips into her knuckles. Her hand quickly locked around his as she sat up. Earlier she’d left her appointment, stopped and sat in an empty church, prayed for strength, guidance, her baby’s protection, and peace. And though she hated the foolishness that had actually brought them together…that helped them to finally connect, she needed this day with them. Ichabod and the boys, and she needed him here tonight. He brought her so much peace. Even before today she had been nearly losing her mind sleeping in their bed without him. Sleeping alone was something she had done her entire life, but she couldn’t quite seem to go back to it after him. She’d even gone so far as to construct a pillow dummy, or as she referred to it her Ich-a-bod—to cuddle with at night. It started out simple, she’d just thrown one of his button ups around a king sized pillow, but soon she’d stuffed the sleeves. It became clear she was having issues after she’d sewn on a pair of his pants and stuffed them with filling as well, but she couldn’t help it. She did however have a serious talk with herself the day she realized she was sitting at her computer truly considering having his photo printed on a t-shirt so she could attach a proper head to her new sleeping partner.

“This is out of control.” She’d sighed shutting her laptop, and sliding her chair away. She ultimately decided to use blue buttons taken right off of his shirt for eyes, and little strips of brown fabric from an old pillow case were stitched on in place of eyebrows and a beard. _I am officially insane_ , she’d thought looking at her finished product. And the fact that it didn’t happen all in one day, but over a period of days spoke to the severity of her illness. She needed it though, and without the real thing it was the only way that she actually got any sleep. She hid it in the corner of her closet, but still couldn’t shake the paranoia she felt over someone finding it. The other day Jenny asked to borrow a blouse and she’d broken into a full sprint to ensure that she didn’t have a chance to spot it.

“Uh, Okay.” Jenny had commented with an awkward gaze as Abbie stood in front of her with her back plastered against the closet door.

“I’ll get it.” Abbie huffed completely out of breath.

“Somebody has skeletons in their closet.” Jenny sang with a rueful smile. She would rather Jenny find an entire morgue’s worth of bones than the messily stitched and stuffed contraption hidden within. And now he was here in the flesh, but he wasn’t going to stay, and after the morning she had she knew that the Ich-a-bod wouldn’t be enough tonight.

“I thought that…I was actually really, really hoping that…” _You would sleep in here, you would hold me, that I could wake up in your arms, because the only time I’m at peace is when I’m in them, and I could really use a little peace right now_.

“Never mind.” She decided. “Goodnight.” She spoke instead, feeling her spirit crushed as he nodded and turned to make his way out of the room. Something lifted her from the mattress, something stronger and less fearful of being hurt or rejected than she was grabbed hold of his hand just as he was twisted the doorknob.

“Ichabod.” She stated breathing heavily from nerves. “Please.” She said softly causing his head to twist around.

He only needed to look upon the pleading look in her eyes to know what she wanted. “Abbie.” He stated in a reprimanding tone.

“I…know you’re still upset with me right now, and I understand it. I do. We are not seeing things from the same angles right now. But I was just hoping that maybe we could stay together until the morning just this once, maybe as a continuation of the truce—I’ll behave. I promise. I just want to hold you.” She added raising her palms to calm the look of caution in his eyes.

“I know that you needed me that night and I wasn’t there for you, and I’m sorry.” Abbie’s heart broke at the hurt she saw in his eyes. She had needed to put him first the night he’d purchased her the lingerie, but Jenny needed her too, and she couldn’t just leave her. Making love to him wouldn’t have fixed their problems, but that connection, it would have held them, it would have served as a patch until they could mend the distance between them.

“Baby I’m really, really sorry…and I know that’s a part of the reason things are the way they are, why you don’t want to see me at all.” She said quietly.

“Want is not the word. Of course I wish to see you.” He wants to go further, to tell her that there is nothing in the world that he wants more, but she should already know. “I cannot.” He states. “I cannot see you and not be with you, it is….” He shakes his head, too exasperated to fully explain.

“I hope constantly that this will end, that we will be together once more, and when I see you that hope grows to unmanageable proportions. It wears upon me, emotionally, mentally…physically Abbie.”

“See when I see you everything feels complete, it feels better. Downstairs on the couch watching movies, I felt like there was no other place in the world that I would have rather been. When I _don’t_ see you I feel like a part of my life is missing, or…” Abbie ran a backwards hand through her hair trying to think of the way to convey what she felt.

“I know the feeling Abbie. I lived with it for years when I was without you. And then it was easier to deal with because even though I knew most certainly that something was awry, or missing, I had no clue as to what that was. Every now and again I would find myself walking along and suddenly become stricken with the most pervasive emptiness and longing. I was suffocating, why, I knew not. Now I know, and I find it far worse because that feeling that I felt upon occasion is now constant. And you, the woman who claims to love me can utter two little words to alleviate the pain of it all, and yet you choose not to.

Abbie stood motionless letting the weight of his words sink in.

“You don’t get to say that to me.” She fought back in a deprecating tone. “You do not _ever_ get to refer to me as the woman who just _claims_ to love you. Ever! She repeats making a conscious effort to not point her finger at him. “Second, I’m not _choosing_ , it’s a Hobson’s choice, as of right now there is no choice to be made. If I say those words, if I say _come home_ what happens?”

“That is quite simple, I come home.” He replied standing over her.

“That simple huh? Okay so what about the new day camp you just signed the boys up for. You’re going to leave here every morning, drive all the way out to the cabin to pick up Jeremy then come all the way back to town to drop them off, then head to work, put in a full day, and then what? Come home and spend an hour with Delton, go to the cabin and spend a few hours with Jeremy, come back home, and get ready to do it all over again? Ichabod _please_.” She griped.

“If necessary. I know that at present time it all seems greatly problematic, I will grant you that, but you know well I am taking measures to ensure that it shall not be this way for long. Things will change.”

“I believe it.” She responds much to his surprise. “With the way you’re stepping up to the plate, the way you’re handling all of this I believe what you’re saying, things will _eventually_ change, but as of right now your bases are loaded and I don’t want to see you go down swinging for the fences when the only thing you need is a base hit.” She argued. “One step at a time. But because I feel this way it somehow invalidates my love for you?” She states heading to the bathroom in search of her hair scarf.

“I misspoke and I apologize, you are correct.” He said following after her. Thinking of everything she’d done for him, all of the different ways in which she had proved her love. “I am well aware of your love for me that is not the question. In fact I am willing to wager that you love me more than you have ever loved any man, _including_ him. But your trust in me, as the person you love, as your man, your husband Abbie, is found wanting _because_ of him.”

He doesn’t need to bother clarifying who him is, she knows clearly he’s referring to her father. “Ichabod I do trust you, and I don’t wanna do this. Please…” She stated tying her hair up.

Ichabod frowned. It sounded like she was stating words he was beginning to worry she didn’t know the meaning of. He wondered whether she had any idea how terrible it felt when the person you love refuses to allow you to love them as completely as you wished to.   He understood her. Knew that she had become accustomed to doing things her own way, taking care of others, taking care of herself, and not to mention the entire city, that was her job. But she somehow failed to understand that taking care of her was his. He knew how things began for her, with her family, her father, but he was beginning to worry that he had grossly underestimated how deeply affected she was by it all. He thought by now he had proven himself worthy of her uninhibited trust, but these circumstances proved he hadn’t.

“One thing has nothing to do with the other.” Abbie shot defensively. “I’m not some little girl anymore, I’m not six-years old sitting around waiting for daddy to come home, I could give a fuck less if I ever lay eyes on that man again.”

‘I do not doubt it, you have always taken care to mend your wounds. What is of concern to me are the protections you have erected in order to prevent those wounds from recurring.”

“The protections are not meant to keep you out, they are there to keep the world out. I let you in.” She argued. “I let you in, and you _know_ that!” She maintained opening the bathroom door hoping to escape, or at least take a break from their conversation.

“Then how is it that I have found myself on the outside?” He asked closing the door to the bathroom before she had a chance to lock herself inside of it.

“You claimed even today that I have your everything, that you have opened yourself completely to me, and there was a time I would have believed that. Even now I want to believe, and yet this place where we find ourselves leads me to reason that I have not been granted the access I believed I had, that I _deserve_ to have.” He insisted, cornering her against the door. He could tell that she no longer wished to talk, but since they were already here he was going to say everything that was weighing upon his mind.

“Further I cannot seem to shake the feeling that there are things you refuse to share with me. You are my aeternalis,” He emphasized cupping face between his large hands. “You’re my aeternalis.” He repeated, frustrated. “But you are withholding parts of yourself from me. Do you believe me too foolish to take notice?” The frustration in his voice evident as he rested his head over hers.

“You are different. You look the same, and speak the same, but there is something about you that is different. I feel it.” He spoke.

Abbie’s heart came to a screeching halt. Her face fraught with panic did nothing to deter his belief. Ichabod watched a saturnine expression covered her face. Liquid filled eyes turned up to his.

“Abbie.” He stated pulling her arms apart. “Until now I simply reasoned that whatever it may be, you would share it with me when you were prepared. But your reaction here tonight is beyond worrisome and I need to know that you are safe. Are you in danger?” He whispered just inches from her mouth.

“No.”

“Are you taken ill?” He breathed.

“No.” She assured him, adding “I swear,” when he didn’t look quite convinced. He reached out and caressed her jawline, taking a moment to study her eyes until he was certain.

“What is it?” He entreated quietly, tone almost begging her to let him in. Her heart-rate increased thumping violently, as she considered spilling her guts.

 _I’m pregnant_. _Say it out loud Abbie, just say it…tell him everything. Tell him that you’re carrying his child, and that you’re sorry for not telling him sooner. Tell him that not only Jenny, but Irving, and even Abraham knows, and that he has every right to be completely livid about all of this. Tell him about the walk you took with Jenny earlier, and how you returned home infused with a new sense of clarity, and you knew that today was the day that you were going to share everything with him….Then tell him how you got dressed and went to your prenatal appointment, and even though you could never put it into words, try to describe to him how overjoyed you were when you saw your baby’s perfect little heartbeat across the screen, his baby’s heartbeat. Then try to describe the disgust that crawled beneath your skin at feeling like you had robbed him of that moment. But if you tell him all of that then you will also have to tell him how you sat on the examination table and listened as your ObGyn informed you that your progesterone was a little low. And even though he may not understand what that means, you do. So then you will have to tell him that there is a very real chance that the beautiful little light you saw blinking across the screen could disappear. Sure you could tell him about the pills that your doctor prescribed for you to take for the next six weeks, and how he told you to try not to worry. You could even tell him that with prayer, and he and the boys’ company you managed to do just that. But it’s quiet now, and little seeds of doubt are starting to lay roots and establish strongholds over your thoughts. Tell him how afraid you are, that you need him to hold you. But once you lay this on him, it’s on him. He will demand to know why you failed to tell him immediately, and you will have to answer honestly, however flawed your reasoning may have been. You know him, he will remember what he said in the backyard, and if things don’t work out…he will blame himself, just as he’s blaming himself for what happened today with D._

 _S_ he dropped her gaze to his chest, and he knew she was done talking.

“Very well.” He said, after a few moments, glaring at her, hoping even then she would speak. He lifted her knuckles to his lips, dusted a soft kiss across them and started heading out of the room.  

“Crane…”

“Abbie. I am learning to respect your convictions, and I pray that you will learn to respect mine as well. I want all of you, and I cannot with a steady conscience settle for anything but.”

His heart stretched as he watched her sulk, she looked like an angel pouting the way she did. Perfect full lips drawn into a loose frown, inches below silky brows sunk tight together causing a tiny wrinkle to appear between them. Her hair had been pressed straight and swirled into a loose high bun, but random tendrils messily hung from different sections. He wanted to feel them across his face, already the scent of her face cream was causing some sort of a chemical reaction in his body. He loved that smell, that clean, soft unnamable scent that he had simply come to define as a part of her. He could even smell it in his dreams.

“Fine.” Abbie assented despondently. Head hanging forward as she walked over to her bed and yanked back the covers.  

She was spoiled, no one knew it as well as Ichabod, because he was the one who’d spoiled her. She wasn’t this way when they first met. Even now she didn’t ask for much, and the things she did ask for were never material in nature, but when she did ask for something, anything at all, time, understanding, his presence, she meant to have it. He knew that this had something to do with the fact that it was difficult for her to ask anyone for anything, including him. It made him proud in a sense, the sullen annoyance brimming from her eyes was indicative of how thoroughly he loved and satisfied her, she _expected_ to have everything she requested. He stood there a moment in full attraction to the handful that was Abigail Crane, sugary sweet, strong, and obdurate to the very end. But even when he was most upset with her, he still wished he could tie a string around the moon and give it to her.      

“Can you get the light on your way out please?” She asked pulling her blankets over her body.

“Abbie.”

“—Thank you.” She hissed. He wasn’t staying, she didn’t need to hear an explanation as to why.

Dejection and sadness closed in over her as she watched the lights fade and heard the door close. She listened as his steps grew distant, and felt her eyes grow watery with frustration. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t coming to lay with her. She tried closing her eyes, but after a few minutes of tossing and turning, she made her way to her closet in search of her crutch. She sighed falling back to the bed, swaddling her arms around her stuffed Ich-a-bod.

Ichabod lay in the guest room wide eyed staring up at the ceiling. He hated disappointing her, even though he couldn’t help but love how hauntingly sexy she looked every time she didn’t get her way. He was amazed he hadn’t wilted right then and there as he commonly did. Those were the occasions upon which Miss Jenny referred to him as being whipped. One particular occasion they were sitting engaged in a heated video game battle when they heard Abbie’s footfall upon the stairs.

“Aww shit, here come Deebo.” Miss Jenny remarked. He’d glanced over at her curiously, thinking a moment before realizing she was referring to the to the ginormous bully depicted in the film Friday she’d once insisted they watch. He couldn’t understand why she was comparing his sweet little Apple to such a person. Abbie rounded the corner already shaking her head in disapproval. She stood behind them cloaked in joggers, a tanktop, and fuzzy slippers, complete with a satin scarf twisted around her bunned hair. She sat her bowl of popcorn on the couch, and slurped a gulp of water through her straw.  

Her eyes narrowed upon them, as they turned to meet her gaze. “Whassup yall?”

“Hey.” Jenny responded dryly already knowing she was about to check-in the TV.

“Hello my heart.” Ichabod smiled, knowing the same but too happy to see her to care. “How was your bath?” He’d asked.

“It was great.” She answered enthusiastically. “You guys know it’s Sunday right? Sunday evening is the only time I have to watch TV, I have two episodes of _How to Get Away with Murder_ on deck, and three episodes of _Homeland_ before the new one starts so….”

Jenny glanced over at Ichabod. “Moment of truth Craig, you gonna tuck you chain in or put your foot down.” She ribbed.

Ichabod looked back at Abbie settling into the couch with her bowl of popcorn.

“—Of course Treasure.” He smiled. “Miss Jenny and I will continue our battle another day, shall we not?” He’d added turning to Jenny. He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. “This is not a surrender, nor a tucking in of the chain as you might describe it, your sister and mines relationship is based upon mutual respect, and admiration, and it is her turn to use the television.” He corrected her.

“Hey what’s all the discussion?” Abbie questioned loudly growing impatient.

Honestly he looked forward to this time as much as Abbie. There weren’t many ways in which he would rather spend his time than cuddling with her upon the sofa, and stealing kisses at his leisure. Besides he knew well the reason she was behind on both of her shows, images of him slipping inside of her from the rear, and her astride him reverse cowgirl, bare as Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard quickly flashed through his mind.

“Perhaps tomorrow evening we can resume our game.” He’d offered, suddenly dry mouthed.

Jenny laughed placing her controller on the stand, “You’re whipped.” She teased.

Ichabod rose to his feet alongside of Jenny, once again turning his eyes to Abbie. She was sitting at the end of the sofa, cross legged plucking pieces of popcorn from a bowl far too big for her lap, gazing at him from behind framed lenses that were decidedly overly large for her head.   She was perfect. It was almost as if his heart was connected to a device much like the remote he held in his hand. She held utter control over it, making it jump and stop as she pleased. Just for looking at her it seized and fluttered uncontrollably.    

“Quite possibly.” He agreed before giving Jenny a quick pat on the back. “Fare thee well Miss Felicia.” He’d smiled.

He couldn’t get to sleep, as the woman at the other end of the hall kept his head turning in circles. How he hated refusing to give her anything she requested which was within his power to give, she had given him so much. As much as he wanted to stay the course he couldn’t get the image of the face she’d made when he told her he wouldn’t stay out of his mind. She was hurt. The anger was one thing, he could deal with her ire, but the sorrow he saw in her eyes devastated him. He never wanted her to feel that way, especially from his actions, _Perhaps I am being a bit tyrannical_ , he worried. His inner bully laughed at him _. There is but one tyrant, she is approximately five feet tall and yet gazes upon you as if you are the short one. Simply admit that you have come to find comfort in this softened Tocquevillian sort of despotism, and get on with it. After all being ruled is much more pleasant when you fail to realize its occurrence._ He lay there for a while, arguing with himself until his love for her pulled him from his bed, and led him down the hall. He promised himself that he would only hold her, that he would merely lay down beside her and provide comfort. The pulsing tingle he felt in the heart of his loins called him a liar. From kisses in the kitchen to cuddles upon the sofa, to the intoxicating sway of her arse when she walked across the room, he couldn’t help but realize how much he missed it, how desperately he yearned to be in the bed beneath her, nether region wet with her lust. He was never a fickle man, but his inability to control himself around her made him feel so all the same. How is it that he thought he could spend the day with her, laughing, happy…simply being them and somehow not end up here? Standing over her bed ready and willing to do everything he said he wouldn’t. The sighs of her quiet snoozing filled the air, and made it that much sweeter to breathe. He slugged out of his shirt, slipping beneath the cool sheets as he stretched his hands out to corral her. He sat forward when he came in contact with something unfamiliar. His fingers tightened around the object as he unwittingly jostled it around trying to discern what it was.

“Ichabod.” Abbie breathed, starting to wake. “Ichabod!” She exclaimed quickly awakening with panic as she realized what he was in the midst of discovering. Her hands closed around the pillow, but he quickly pulled it away from her, as he reached over, and clicked on the lamp stationed upon the nightstand.

“What in God’s…” _name?_ The tail of his sentence never reached his lips as he stood to his feet twisting the object around trying to make sense of it. Abbie stood up in the bed reaching over his shoulders in an attempt to retrieve it.

“No-n-no-n-no! Give it to me.” She pleaded as he batted her hands away.

“This is my shirt.” He stated growing more interested by the second.  

“Listen just give it to me.” Abbie begged, her embarrassment reaching epic proportions.

“Are these my trousers?” He muttered to himself taking his fingers over the fabric.

“Ichabod please!” Abbie pleaded. “It’s, it’s”, there was nothing remotely reasonable she could think to say.

“Me.” He realized, a small smile touching his eyes as he turned around to face her.

“Oh God no.” Abbie whined, covering her face, and sinking to her knees. She sat back on her hunches, holding her eyes shut as tightly as she possibly could.

“Abbie.” He spoke. She kept her hands over her eyes as she fell head first into the mattress. “Oh my God.” She groaned.   _What the fuck Abbie? That’s not creepy, hand stitching a fucking life-sized replica of someone isn’t weird at all. He is NEVER going to look at you the same. Oh my GOD!!!!_ She inwardly panicked.

She felt his weight fill in upon the bed behind her. “Abbie…Apple look at me.”

“Absolutely not.” She stated. _I will never be able to look at you again, s_ he thought. _Who does this?_ “If you care about me at all please, I am _begging_ you to just walk out of this room and pretend like this never happened.” She asked never raising her head.

“I am afraid I cannot.” He replied. “I wish to remember this moment always. This.” A smile brightened his eyes, “Have you any idea how much this means to me?” He looked at it musing for a moment at the thought of her hard at work upon its construction. Tiny fingers sewing stitches with him in mind. He couldn’t stop smiling.

“Apple,” he called again, placing his soothing palm against her tailbone. She heard him but continued lying face down upon the mattress with her legs folded beneath her chest. Ichabod abandoned the pillow, and sat fully behind her on the bed stretching his legs around her slight figure. His stomach wavered at the days torment pressing against his groin. Abbie didn’t have the voice to protest as he cinched his arms around her and lifted her back against his chest. She remained shielded in the fetal position, hands covering her clenched eyes, and knees drawn to her bosom, stubbornly clinging to the modicum of protection she had left. She’d already done too much, and this was the type of thing she could never claim to be anything other than what it was, obsession. She’d told him how much she needed him before, but him seeing that doll made it clear on an entirely different level. He could break her if he wanted to, and even though she trusted him, the acknowledgment of that kind of power was distressing. How would he treat her now that he knew she couldn’t live without him? He already wasn’t speaking to her. How would he act now that he knew she was barely getting by without him in her life? Her stomach twisted into a knot while she sat trying to cope with the humiliation of being that exposed.

She felt the hair beneath his chin upon her shoulder as his fingers traced down her arms and gently pried her hands away from her eyes. Her limbs were rendered useless as he twisted her anxious body until she sat perpendicular between his sturdy legs. Still too mortified to look at him, Abbie hung her head forward eyes fixed upon her bare thighs slung across his leg. He had to think she was the silliest woman in the world, she considered, but all of her thoughts grew quiet as she felt his lips brush against her warm face. She was always surprised by the strength she drew from his love, it was as though her body had learned how to digest the heat from even the tiniest of his kisses, and immediately convert it into positive energy. They became her power, and somewhere within it she found the wherewithal to let it all go, pride, shame, innocence, worry, and guilt, all of it slipped to the shallows, and love—this love—became the depth of her. She never understood how he managed to empty her, to take it all out, and still fill her so completely with the same kiss. When she finally raised her eyes to his she was met with a gaze that needed little interpretation. His thumb slipped beneath her chin as his lips tumbled against hers with a soft but still stifling ferocity that caused her to forget where they were. Her soft whimpers filled the air as she held back her tears pondering how savagely she’d missed him. There was a pain behind her eyes that he couldn’t understand, but recognized nonetheless. He wondered if she had any idea how much he thought of her. Wondered if she knew how many loops of her he replayed back to back as he struggled to find sleep. He stopped kissing her for a moment and simply held her face to his.

“I love you.” He breathed. “I will never hurt you.” He promised, feeling the need to protect her, even if it was from himself.

Abbie sat breathing him in. “I love you.” She replied softly. She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t hurt him, but the truth of it was that she’d already done things that she knew would. Still she felt that he would have an easier time recovering from the hurt of her keeping their baby a secret from him until it was out of the woods, than he would recovering from the loss of the child altogether.  In hindsight she wished that she would have told him when she thought everything was fine, because now, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

He pushed her back against the bed, crawling over her in search of all the places that drew sighs and whimpers from his kisses. He trapped her with his arms settling himself between her unbelievably silky thighs. Seeing the doll she’d fashioned out of a pillow reminded him of something he’d almost lost track of…she belonged to him. She was his and no matter how angry he became with her, it was his duty to make certain that she had everything she required. Paper bills stuffed inside of a cookie jar were not enough, she needed to feel his love, as much as he needed to feel hers. He vowed to never let another day pass without telling her. A twist of his hips, sighs hit the air, a fingernail pierces his skin. Soft kisses grow hard, and he tries to remember if she always felt this soft, if her mouth always tasted this good, how did he leave it for so long. He’s nearly certain his erection is on the verge of splitting his zipper open as their tongues thrashed from long depraved desire. If Abbie had any questions about his appetency for her they were answered when his manhood ground against her core.

“Crane.” She heard herself gulp, nearly splintering from the heat of his touch, instantly feeling something deep and illicit growing inside of her. Something that sent her scrambling, digging her nails into his shoulders in an effort to raise and straddle his lengthy frame. Her knees velcroed to his sides, as his lips claimed her mouth, sucking away at her lips with an animalistic desperation that only he could make feel tender. She couldn’t give it to him fast enough.

He called her name as she mercilessly ground her center against him, too greedy for him to allow even the smallest separation. Ichabod moaned as his fingers caressed the soft skin covering her bottom. A small piece of cloth she should have known had no chance of covering her arse all but disappeared between her round cheeks. His want for her seemed to seep from his pores, as he vowed to give her every drop of love she deserved, to rub and touch every single inch of her beautiful body as slowly and gently as he knew he should. Only his hands didn’t get the memo, they reached down and quickly gripped her panties, before roughly ripping them, and pulling them away from her flesh. The backside of a bent finger wiggled between her silky folds, as his tongue flourished through her parted lips. Abbie’s movements came to an abrupt halt, and he thought for certain that he saw something break inside of her soft russet eyes. He took his mouth from hers feeling her shaking hands clasped around his finger to hold it in place.

“Oh God!” She croaked, trembling fighting with everything she had to remain quiet as an unexpected orgasm ripped through her. Ichabod moved his finger against her swollen clit watching, and mumbling in awe as spasm after heavy spasm tore through her body. He gently sucked the flesh along her tilted jawline, listening to her mewl. His lips returned to hers, tongue swallowing her whimpers as he cockily reminded her of precisely who made her feel this way.  

 _Shit Abbie he literally lays a finger on you and you come, try making him work for it,_ she gently counseled herself as she made her way through the aftershocks. Wasting no time, Ichabod pushed her hands above her head as he pulled her t-shirt from her body. His eyes flickered and nearly doubled looking at the size of her breasts. He knew this body, what it looked like, how it felt, how it tasted. His memory afforded him a perfect recollection of many things, but he knew nothing in the world better than he knew this. He stared at her mounds, hands stretching out to cup them in wonder, just before his gaze came to hers with a question. _How_ , he wondered. Abbie quickly wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a tantalizing kiss to silence his thoughts. Her hand eased between them and slipped down his length. The anguish that crawled from his throat was a thing of absolute beauty. Reddened, swollen, lips parted in desperation and Abbie wasted no time pulling them into febrile kisses. Ichabod seized control pushing her off of him until her back flattened to the mattress. He bent over her and quickly gathered her up, parted her thighs, and raised her a few inches to his warm mouth.

She fought off a scream as the center of his tongue flopped against her clit. She never would have let him touch it that soon after an orgasm, but she didn’t know that’s what he was doing until his tongue was already lapping and flittering away at her. Thank the heavens he didn’t tell her because she nearly died at the feel of him gripping her hips and slurping her tiny pearl with an authority she could only describe as sovereign.

A prayerful gasp rolled free, “Crane”. Her eyes opened and roamed down her body in search of confirmation that this was actually happening. _Oh my fucking…_ her eyes clenched shut, as her tongue spread across her lips. She gave up trying to understand how he’d returned her to her verge of release so quickly. Her breaths collided and fought one another in search of ways in and out of her mouth.   She was a quivering, hyperventilating mess, sucking air writhing in submission to this unyielding autocratic power he wielded over her body. He gently lowered her flat against the bed, but she didn’t stay that way for long. A lengthy finger slipped inside of her, arching her spine off of the mattress, while sending trembles through her thighs. Ichabod overflowed with desire realizing that she was wetter than she had ever been. He pulled his finger from her dazzled by the liquid dripping from it. At the sound of her groaning protest he returned slowly pushing two inside, curling them up and as he briefly raised to suckle her skyward nipples, he wanted to taste and touch it all. Her body shook heavy moans from her mouth as his tongue fluttered over her hardened nipples. He returned his mouth to her pebble licking her with hard uneven circles as she built to her peak. Just as she arrived he reentered her with his still damp digits. She turned her head burying her cries in the pillow as his agile fingers and hurricane tongue made it impossible for her to ever consider making love to someone else.  

 _Yours_ , she thought.

Ichabod moaned against her folds as his dick twanged with lust and jealousy at the feel of her tightening around his fingers. If it could have spoken it would have said “that could be us but you playin”. He stuck to the task despite wanted to remove his fingers and insert his cock. His name became the one word in all of human language that she was capable of uttering, and she did so until the last waves of her pleasure left her. The oscillations of his tongue grew soft in perfect time with her breaths, he kept his mouth over her until her arms gave up on life and flopped to the mattress.

Her mind was numb, as she lay there shuddering, and breathless, not even bothering to pretend like she was coherent. Ichabod pulled himself up off of the mattress, lips and beard glossy with her wetness. His erection popped out of his pants and boxers, as he quickly lowered them to the floor. He reached into the bedside drawer, fingers darting about in search of the condoms they kept there, while his eyes kept crawling across the silky skinned creation before him. He pulled his eyes from her long enough to find the condoms. In honesty he didn’t care for them, and though this particular brand was long enough, it was still a bit too snug to accommodate his girth. Thankfully he’d only had to use them on the few occasions when Abbie hadn’t taken her pill. He felt himself grow harder as he took himself in hand, eyes scanning her figure. He was too anxious to be surrounded by her, to have every inch of his aching shaft burrowed inside of that tight little paradise between her thighs. He wondered if she had any inkling as to what he was about to do to her. He’d just ripped open the edge of the wrapper when she came up on her knees and took it from his fingers. He looked on as she dropped it to the floor.  

“Don’t need it.” She said in a huff, pulling him to the bed by his ribs. Her hand cradled his tightened scrotum as her soft lips stretched around his hard thickness. Abbie pushed her wet lips down his shaft, before sucking her way back up with heart stopping precision. His head flopped back, as everything inside of his chest cavity shook. He thought for certain his engorged head would pop as she mercilessly took him down her throat. When her lips drug over his head again he grabbed the side of her face barely forcing out a soft plea in fear that he would come before pleasing her. Neverminding that she was already pleased, he wanted to give her more.  

“App—Apple.” He sputtered, desperate to be inside of her. “Sit on it….please…I want you to sit on it.” He pleaded, brushing a thumb over her swollen lips. “Treasure just sit on it.” All of Abbie’s hunger reawakened, as she saw the urgency in his eyes. She wanted to take it there, hard, fast, and deep until she knew she wouldn’t be able to walk without a little pain. But she couldn’t.

“Be gentle.” She stated, softly biting at his lips, as he sat up in the center of the bed, helping her to get seated.

“Always.” He promised, both of them knowing it was a lie.

She held his head and found his eyes. “I mean it.” She whispered. Ichabod nodded his head in agreement, only wanting to please her. He gently eased his tongue between her lips just as she rose up to steady him against her entrance and start working herself down his thick length. After three half rises and falls she sank down against his base and immediately forgot everything she ever knew about breathing. After a moment broken breath’s somehow found their way to her lungs. Meanwhile Ichabod fell back against the pillows in sweet agony trying to steady himself as his lives flashed before his eyes. He’d been hoping and dreaming for this moment for what felt like an eternity and now that it was upon him he couldn’t find the strength to move. His fingers gripped her fleshy hips sealing their union, as he looked up at her as though she were literally trying to kill him.   A low strangled noise rang from Abbie’s mouth as she leaned forward and started slowly grinding herself against him. She seamlessly reversed her rotation and he nearly broke. His face hardened with passion and desire as she spun her hips in sensual circles. There was no music to be heard, but this was a dance she had consummately perfected. Ichabod tried his hardest to maintain his composure, but found himself utterly lost under her varied motions. He couldn’t control himself, or stop his own hips from rising up off of the bed to meet her grind. It wasn’t long before her fingernails pressed into the skin covering his chest using it as leverage to sit herself up straight, and he knew he wouldn’t last through it. Her pace quickened, as she abandoned grinding in favor of joggling her ass up and down his pulsing shaft. Her every rise was heaven and the way she dropped it back down was pure hell, Ichabod was worthless, desperately wishing to be both a sinner and a saint.

“Abbie.” He rasped in the deep lustful voice that exposed how deeply he was becoming unhinged. He made a motion to sit up and take control, feeling overwhelmed and totally emasculated by how thoroughly she fucked him. He would scream soon if she didn’t stop. She leaned over him palms flattened against his chest, as she boldly pushed him back down, causing the moans he had hoped to subdue by sitting up to come spilling out. Her fingers quickly covered his lips as she looked down on him riding harder and faster spurring on his release. He knew he needed to be quiet, that he should get a hold of himself, but his loud groans seeking release compelled her to use both hands to cover his open mouth. He wasn’t alone, Abbie wanted to scream out at the feel of his stiff monstrosity repetitively rubbing something inside of her that no one should have ever been allowed to touch. He pushed his way forward, sitting up to place one hand firmly around her fleshy bottom, while using the other one to guide her quivering lips to his.

“Crane.” She tried to cry but felt his thieving tongue stole the words. Her entire body trembled as he moaned her name inside of her mouth.

He could have gotten anything he wanted in that moment, as far as she was concerned he was Prince Akeem, and she was Imani izzi. If he told her he was coming home no ifs and’s or but’s she would have said, ‘whatever you like.’ If he told her she wasn’t going to work tomorrow simply because he fucking said so she would have again said ‘whatever you like’, and kissed her perfect attendance record goodbye. He had the love she needed. This inharmonious feeling of peace and total panic, unquestioning fulfilling, nirvana and still the want and need for more. It was suffocating, an unrelenting rush spiraling through her knocking everything off of its axis, until her inner world rested at an angle that made it impossible to spin. She looked at him. She knew she shouldn’t have, that she should have simply left her eyes closed but she couldn’t help it, she needed to see him. When she opened her eyes the tenderness she saw reflected in his softened every part of her, and the harder parts of him made her all the more aware of her vulnerability. In that moment Abbie took a piercing breath in, and felt her world go still. Consciousness ceased and it was just him, and the way he made her feel…breathless. Her fogged over brain had shut down completely from sensory overload, and that’s when she heard his muted voice trying to break through and guide her back to earth.

“Breathe Apple.” He panted, against her lips, sliding her up and down his manhood. “Breathe.” He groaned, sealing their lips and huffing into her mouth reengaging her lungs.    

Silent screams pierced through her, as fat warm tears found their way down flushed cheeks. Her warmth swathed around him and defiantly refused to let go, with every spasm her walls grew tighter around stiff shaft until she felt his warmth filling the inside of her. Ichabod felt everything tighten with untempered pleasure just as his stream soared into her with a force he would later reason would have carried it for miles be it not for her perfect tenderness sheathed around him. Abbie shook wildly coming back to herself enough to rock her hips against him as they rolled through their orgasms. They sat that way for a moment. In the center of the bed damp skin sticking to one another’s while they breathed through their aftermath. Ichabod’s heart ached and ballooned with gratification at the sight of her tears. He kissed her through them, falling back and coiling his arms around her, until they fell against his chest. She clung to him as fingertips drug long soft lines up and down her back. No one ever made him feel this good. He thought back to the time when they were young, in the place before this one…it was always her. He brought his head from the pillow to press a few kisses to her face. Abbie lay atop him wondering how it was possible for something to feel this good. No other man could even make her cry let alone crymax. She said an inward prayer for their baby, their family…that it would all work out in the end. She was the first to try to move nearly ten minutes later, but his strong arms held her in place.

“Don’t go.” He whispered kissing her head. Abbie sighed, she’d never had a UTI in her life so she didn’t see the immediate harm in staying a while longer, but her body was changing. Ichabod had never pulled out of her, and quite honestly he had no intention of doing so now. She felt far too incredible and even the subtle movement she made attempting to leave him reignited his passion for her. He started kissing the silky locks covering her head until she lifted her chin to his chest and took his lips.

“I did not want it to cease.” He whispered, stroking her hair, still quavering from the exhilaration she roused in him. Abbie dolloped her tongue along his bottom lip, causing him to open his mouth to her before he spoke again.

“I wish it could have gone on forever.” He admitted. Feeling his semi-erection take on new life. “I want more. I want you all over again.” He added pushing and pulling a few inches in and out of her.

Abbie nipped at his warm lips as she began performing kegals around his member, her eyes fluttered with want as he grew unbelievably firm. He moaned at the sensation, as every time he began pulling out she tightened her wet flower around him, as if to keep him trapped inside of her, soaked with her nectar forever. Just the feel of him growing there had already taken Abbie back to the edge oblivion. Ichabod eagerly raised up against the pillows and lapped at her hardened nipples. He bent forward whispering assertions of possession into her ear as broken pieces of his name repetitively lurched from her mouth. Just as he was telling her precisely what was his, and what he next intended to do with it, Abbie literally came off of her grind sending her clamping down around him with a dawning exactness that left little doubt as to whom was actually the one possessed. She flattened her feet at his side and rode him out, until he was the one calling her name through the air. He didn’t understand how he came so fiercely after he’d just come so outrageously hard and long only minutes before. Abbie didn’t bother telling him that he was hers, she could tell from the dazed look on his face that he already knew.

He stared at her as she pulled away from him, and coiled against his side.   Her hand journeyed across his chest, while she rested a moment.   Abbie forced herself to stay awake, knowing that she needed to clean up. She sat up and Ichabod rose alongside of her.

“Rest, I will get them.” He said as he opened the bedside drawer, plucking a few baby wipes from the container they kept stashed there. He wiped himself first, and tossed the soiled wipe into the wastebasket, which drew a small smile from Abbie. He smiled back. What was the point of having a bedroom wastebasket if she was never going to place anything in it he wondered. She held her hand out to receive her wipes but he kept hold of them.

“Allow me.” He said, attempting to push her shoulder back to the pillows. She laughed thinking about the last time he cleaned her up, and they started making love all over again.

“Baby, I can do it.” She smiled.

“I promise, I shall do nothing more than that which is necessary.” He stated seductively.

“Necessary for what.” Abbie laughed. Ichabod looked down at the terrific mess he’d made of her, and took the wipes up through her folds. She knew he was finished when his fingers found her sensitive pearl, and spun a few circles around it.

“Baby!” She beamed, grabbing his hand. “I have to go to the bathroom!” She exclaimed, causing him to fall into laughter. He watched as she stood up, and tried to take the wastebasket with her to dispose of their napkins in the bathroom.

“Leave it.” He ordered.

“I’m just going to…”

“Abigail leave it.” He smiled, knowing her OCD was eating away at her.

“Are _you_ going to empty that.” She said returning a knee to the bed.

“Rest assured.” He replied, just to show her that it didn’t need to be cleaned right away. “Go and hurry back.” He said brushing her knee.

That night Abbie slipped into a land where even dreams couldn’t find her. He was the only one that could ever send her there. Ichabod however, lay awake staring at her through the darkness as melancholy settled into his bones. He loved her too much, and he couldn’t see it ever changing. Her heart was too big, and her face was so pretty it sometimes hurt to look at her, even still he could never bring himself to look away. He had done the very thing he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. She hadn’t asked him to stay, or to come home, but he’d caved. He wasn’t the type prone to falling back against his chosen aims, he was steadfast in his goals, and had been ever since he could remember. There was always a strength inside of him that could be relied upon, but it didn’t hold a candle to the tiny woman wrapped in his arms. She was his blind-spot, shining so brightly that he couldn’t see all of her pieces at the same time. He simply trusted that all of them were good, that she would never hurt him. He briefly recalled that his uncle had a blind-spot once, and how horribly it all ended for him. He lowered his lips and dropped kisses upon her sleeping head.

“I love you Apple.” He whispered, even though she was much too far away to hear him.    

The next morning Abbie woke alone. “Ichabod?” She’d called out to the empty room. She sat up looking around for any trace of him, and noticed the empty space by the door where he’d left his shoes the night before. She turned to her side and found her Ich-a-bod tucked beneath the blankets beside her. She leaned over and checked the wastebasket, it had been emptied just as he promised. Her stomach sickened, and she reached into her drawer in search of her crackers. She was one bite into her cracker when she realized it wasn’t morning sickness causing the discomfort in her tummy. _I can’t believe he didn’t say goodbye._ There was something particularly distressing about waking up without the comfort of his arms around her. Especially knowing the last time she closed her eyes, she was so deeply entrenched in his embrace.

She bent over the edge of the bed, fingers jotting along the floor in search of the condom she’d thrown there the night before. Abbie looked around the room knowing the reason he’d left the way he did. He meant what he said when he told her that he would have all of her or none. Surprisingly she thought of Luke in that moment. She remembered feeling sorry for him when he realized that she didn’t feel the same way about him. When she realized the reason it took him so long to understand was because it was too difficult for him to imagine her not feeling the same way about him that he did about her. Though she’d sympathized with him at the time, she was now able to empathize, because she loved Ichabod far too much to consider not having any relationship with him. She couldn’t do it, and the thought that he could was both heartbreaking and sobering. Abbie pulled her knees into her arms, sinking her head over the top of them. Be it not for the boys she might have stayed that way for the entire day.

* * *

 

 

**Three weeks later**

Katrina entered the kitchen to find Jeremy humming, and singing while drawing a picture at the table.

“I can’t stay away from you too long,

Even if I do, I’ll always call,

Checking on you, Make sure you’re okay,

Hmm, hmm, hm, hmm, hmmmm, hmm, hmm,hm, hum,

Yes…And the point of it all is I love you.”

“That sounds like a pretty song.” Katrina says pulling a cup from the wooden cabinet.

“Thank you.” Jeremy says quietly, still focused on his drawing.

“What do you call it?” She asked.

Jeremy puts down the orange colored pencil in favor of the yellow one. “The Point of It All. It’s Miss Abbie’s song.”

“Oh she’s written a song has she?” Katrina says, a bit a sarcasm in her tone.

“Well not hers actually, it’s sung by a fellow, Anthony Hamilton. But whenever it plays in the car, she get’s really excited and says, this is my song you guys be quiet back there,” He says impersonating Abbie. “So we call it her song.” Jeremy knows he doesn’t sound like Anythony Hamilton when he sings it, more like Oliver Twist Miss Abbie says, but she also said that she loves the way he sings it most of all. He especially enjoys singing the song when she joins in with him.

“Jeremy, it is important that you remember what we’ve discussed.” Katrina advises, causing him to still his colored pencil. “Miss Abbie, Delton. They are not your true family.”

“Father says they are.” He says in disagreement.

She strokes his cheek. “Your father is only being kind. He feels sorry for Delton, and he is being fooled by Abigail, you must take caution not to be fooled as well. She does not love you.” Katrina smiles, kisses his forehead and heads out of the kitchen.

He’s heard this before, many times in fact. He doesn’t feel the same, but usually says nothing. He can sense things about her, his mother. He knows before speaking the words that he shouldn’t. That he should simply remain silent and allow her to keep saying the awful things she says.

“She does.” He quietly speaks back, just as Katrina stepped into the living area. A brief moment passes when she’s silent merely staring at him, and he thinks of taking it back. The smallest part of him thought that she might be pleased that someone loved him, but he feels the anger stirring inside of her from across the room.

“What was that?” Katrina turns to him in disbelief.  

He’s emboldened now, knowing that he can’t turn back he stands firm. “She does love me, and so does Delton, I can feel it. So that means that you’re lying. Father says we shouldn’t lie.” He pronounced.

Katrina can feel the rage churning through her body as she reenters the kitchen.

“If she cared for you she would go away, and leave your father alone. She would have never adopted that _boy_ to compete with you for your father’s affection.” She argues, irritation growing with every word. She blames a bit of this on herself. She’d been spending the evenings with her coven, practicing her craft to increase her power, power she would need to carry out her hopeful aims. With Ichabod working, Jeremy spent more and more time with Abbie and her family, perhaps too much.   At first she hated it, she was tired of him shuffling back and forth between here and there as if there is some reason for him to ever be at Abigail’s abode when his father doesn’t even live there. As if there is some reason for Delton’s constant presence in his life. But then she began to see the advantages of it, someone had to look after him while she was busy securing his future, but this affection he showed for them would not do. She clenches the edge of the table.

“Make no mistake, Miss Abbie cares nothing for you. Perhaps the boy has grown fond of having someone to keep company with, but eventually he will turn on you. You have everything he wants, they can change Delton’s last name a thousand times over, but you must know your place, your rank, you are the only one who holds your father’s blood within your veins, and in the grand scheme of things, you are the only son that truly matters. Your father has forgotten that, and it is my duty to help him remember. Do you understand?” She asks.

“Yes Ma’am.” He replies, but inwardly knows better. She didn’t know him very well, his ability to sense emotion, to feel it radiating in and out of others. Miss Abbie loves him as much as she loves Delton, and he knows it to be true. He wants to tell her that she’s wrong but knows nothing good could come of it. Want’s to tell her of the other one with his father’s blood coursing through its veins. Jeremy looked down at his completed picture. He and Delton, tickling Miss Abbie while Father looked on, complete with the sketch of his sibling that lived inside of her belly. That was the first time he felt it.

 

 

                    

 

 


	27. She Don't Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!!! I never would have imagined it would be this long before I updated again. Especially considering it was pretty much written and I just needed to edit and proofread, but I got pretty busy. Thank you all so much for all the love, and helpful tips I appreciate and value all of it more than I can say. I used to check into a few blogs on tumblr, so I already knew this fandom was a mess, but I got over my super-unhealthy fear of social media and signed up, and let me just say the day I thought I was going to update this story, I messed around looking at stuff on there for like five hours, so I now have time allotments. Lol. So many hilarious and talented people in this fandom! I’m at girlunloosed.tumblr.com I think? I thank. I’m really Edward Scissorhands with it right now, and my page is kind of lame/nonexistent, but I may write little things for it later. Anyhow this chapter ends in a weird spot because it’s actually a part of one long chapter. I am going to start proofreading the next one as soon as I post it. Please forgive any errors, comically long flashbacks, and just altogether goofiness, words hate me right now.

 

 

Abbie pulled the blankets up over Jeremy’s shoulders and bent to place a kiss to the side of his head. She plucked a dirty sock from the floor as she walked to Delton’s bed to cover and kiss him as well. They’d fallen asleep quicker than usual tonight, perhaps because they’d played outside a little longer today. She sang the lullaby they’d requested long after they were well into their slumber. She always gave them a choice between a song or a story, and they normally begged until they got both, but tonight it was just the song. She scooped up one of Delton’s toys and placed it in its rightful location before she tossed the loose sock into the hamper. Lights out, door closed, and for a fraction of a second her mind came to rest, and then he entered it.  

Rows and columns of information she’d learned about him were nestled away inside of her mind, and the whole of it fought and scratched to be heard. It was like her heart and mind were conspiring to keep her perpetually aware that she was missing something. That she was without this other part herself. She had an internal library dedicated to just his smile. From the sardonic one he flashed whenever she teased him, to the roguish one he bore when he in turn toyed with her. And that didn’t even account for the ones she hadn’t yet found a name for, like the one that never touched his lips but she saw so clearly in his eyes. That was the one she saw just after the first time they kissed, and again the morning after they had first made love. She missed waking up to that smile, along with the feel of pliant good morning kisses warming the tip of her nose. But as much she wanted it back, all of it, it wasn’t something that she could just snap her fingers and magically restore. She left him. Technically she pushed him away, but in the end it was all the same, she was here, and he was there.

She broke them. It wasn’t easy to admit, but at least it was clear. It wasn’t intentional, she hadn’t just thrown them away, at least she thought she hadn’t. She felt more like she had to let him go or watch him stretch himself so thin that parts of him actually tore away. And just as she started to overcome that fear, new ones sprung up with the baby. Only the minute she let go, their lives went shattering to the floor much like the vase on the coffee table the boys had knocked over horse-playing last week. It wasn’t any vase, it was one Ichabod had insisted upon just after they married. He had promised to keep it filled with flowers for as long as he loved her.

“Oh no. Mom I’m sorry.” Delton apologized as soon as he saw how disappointed she was.

“Me too Miss Abbie.” Jeremy added, “I’m sorry as well, it was accident. I was trying to beat Delton outside and I caught it with my hand as I ran by.”

“It’s okay.” She said.

“I can help pick it up.” Delton offered as she kneeled to gather the pieces.

“No-no-no. It’s sharp, I got it.” Abbie said separating some of the flowers from the shards of porcelain. “Just, grab me some paper towel.”

She glued it back together—the vase—piece by piece, but it never quite fit together the way it did before. There were tiny cracks throughout and little shivers of porcelain that didn’t seem to belong anywhere. It held though, just barely, much more fragile than when they’d first brought it home.

But if it broke again, she didn’t think that anything could ever mold it back together.  She worried now, almost every time she heard them laughing or playing in that room. She never wanted that for them, for any of them. Houses filled with broken things…rooms they couldn’t laugh in. She wondered what it would take to get them back, her and Ichabod. She knew that if she asked him to come home he would. But would he forgive her? Fully? Would he feel as confident in their love and life as he did before? Or would they too have cracks? And what if they broke again, if the baby didn’t make it and it all went crashing to the ground. Would they ever be able to pull themselves back together? When the evening grew still these were the thoughts and images that circled her head, it seemed that the moment she stopped moving, was the exact moment that her mind started. In that sense it was a good thing that the last three weeks of her life had kept her busier than ever.

A full yawn broke from her mouth as she entered the empty den. She sat at the desk and pushed open her laptop, logging in to pay a few monthly bills. Her eyes darted to the wall clock double-checking the time as another yawn flowed through her. Her days were winding to nights faster than before, and most of the time she was snoozing before she could even finish her prayers. Ichabod dominated them. Maybe if she saw him more she wouldn’t have to pray so much, but as it is she barely sees him so it’s the only way she can be hopeful he’s getting everything he needs. She asked God to see to it that he was taken care of. Everything from resting enough to watching his sugar intake, she prayed he was doing all of the little things that he rarely thought to do so it fell to her to remind him. She prayed that he was watched over and protected against all forces that would seek to harm him. That he was granted peace and clarity within himself and inside of his heart. And most of all that he found rest…even though her spirit had none.

Her day starts at 6am, she’s showered and downstairs preparing breakfast for the boys by 6:25. It’s still unclear to her how all of this happened. How she gave up Ichabod so he could be there with Jeremy, and somehow Jeremy was with her more than either Ichabod or Katrina. She wasn’t complaining though, she actually understood it. Well most of it. Ichabod was up to his elbows at work, and most nights he slept right at the office. On the nights that he slept at home—which seemed to be becoming fewer and fewer—the boys slept over at the cabin with him. It worked best this way, she reasoned. Jeremy and Delton were happiest when they were together, and getting them to part had become like pulling teeth. Over the last three weeks they had spent exactly 3 days apart. Of the remaining 18 nights approximately 13 of them had been spent at Abbie’s, while the remaining 5 were spent at the cabin. In truth she would rather they spent every night with her, she worried about them constantly and never seemed to get any sleep when they weren’t there. Ichabod promised her that Delton would be looked after, and though it eased her worries a bit, a few fears still resided.

“Food allergies can be tricky you know.” She’d cautioned, knowing well that she had come to sound like a broken record. “I take pride in the fact that he’s had zero exposures with us. Every exposure can make it worse, you have to be careful.”

“Abbie I have been dealing with his allergy for as long as you have. I assure you I will make certain that nothing happens to our son, he will be well taken care of.” He’d promised.  

Though work seemed to occupy most of Ichabod’s attention he did everything he could to keep time for the boys. Still he occasionally got bogged down, and couldn’t manage to get away. Abbie knew he felt guilty when he took the time to continually point out that things would calm down at this or that future date, only it never it seemed to come. The promise he always came back to was ‘as soon as Bren joins the team things will become less chaotic’. She’d heard that the last two times he’d had to cancel his regular visit with the kids. On the nights the boys slept at her house Ichabod arrived at 7:15 in the morning to pick them up and drop them off at day camp. She had offered to do it so he wouldn’t have to drive to Sleepy Hollow just to turn around and drive back to work, but he insisted that he needed the time with them. Honestly it was only a little over ten miles away, besides Ichabod already felt that she was doing more than her share.

Abbie was on pick up duty and drove over to get the kids each day after her shift ended. Normally when they got home she prepared dinner, cleaned up, and started getting things around for the next day. Once that was complete they moved on to whatever evening activities they had planned. This was her routine. It was a little hectic and overwhelming at times, everything had changed so drastically in such a short period, but as far as the boys went she wouldn’t change a thing. Other things could have used a little tweaking though. So many times they would do or say something she wanted to immediately share with Ichabod only to realize she no longer had that instant access, instead this space between them had become their new normal.

The quick in and out when he was coming and going with the boys simply wasn’t enough, and some days she didn’t even get that. Often times when she was home he didn’t come inside, or even to the door. When he did he always looked at her the same way, with a heartbreaking gaze that somehow managed to be both disproving and adoring. They had developed a sort of routine in which she offered tea, and he respectfully declined, then he inquired whether she needed anything and she did the same. There was a feeling like there was this giant canyon that had sunk in between them, almost overnight. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around how one night they were making the best love her body had ever experienced, and the next day they were polite company. She had done a lot, but that part of it was his doing. He wanted it this way. Just days after their night together he had come to drop off the boys and actually asked her if he could _use the restroom_. Abbie stood there wondering if he was being genuine or if he’d said it just to hurt her, to remind her of how deeply she had hurt him.

“You don’t have to ask.” She’d said gazing up at him.

“I feel as though it is only proper.” He said with his hands locked behind his back. “Thank you.” He added before marching toward the bathroom.

He loosened up as the weeks carried on, not when she was around of course, but she knew he had been spending time in the house. Occasionally he would take a day off from work and keep the boys home from day-camp. He still picked them up at the same time, but texted to let her know that they wouldn’t be attending camp and she didn’t need to pick them up. It was obvious their day eventually led them back to the house because leftover’s disappeared from her fridge in surprising fashion, and his trademark skittles candy wrappers were found jammed down in her sofa cushions. He was the _only_ one brave enough to leave candy wrappers all over her sofa. This was the same way she could tell when he’d been in their bathroom or shower, towels hung from the hook that weren’t there when she’d left.

Then there were other indicators that he’d been around, like when she pulled into the driveway to find her lawn freshly mowed and landscaping tended to. Or walked into the living room and saw flowers in her vase. There was also the one weekend morning she woke to find her car had been washed, vacuumed, and filled with gas. When she hopped in to take the boys to the park they were all too eager to tell her that their dad had helped them clean it that morning after they’d come home from fishing. It took everything in her not to drive straight to his office. It was almost scary how attentive he managed to be with her despite their lack of communication, despite their distance. Jeremy’s ninth birthday party was held at a fun center, and a couple of things that transpired really rubbed her the wrong way. She sucked it up for Jeremy’s sake, but even though no one knew how peeved she’d gotten, Ichabod did. Instead of the regular goodnight text message he sent at the close of the evening, he’d called.

“Forgive me.” His deep voice said as soon as she answered the phone. She pulled her toothbrush from her mouth, smiling a little at how well he knew her.

“I mean, it’s fine, I guess,” She said spitting into the sink and rinsing her brush. “It’s not like it was Delton’s birthday so hey.” She added before palming a handful of water to her lips.

“Although, I _did_ offer to make the cake that J requested, and I _did_ offer to purchase a cake from the bakery using ingredients that D could have had, and you told me you had it under control.”

“Katrina.” Ichabod explained.

“—Katrina.” Abbie sang rolling her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?

“Katrina assured me that she’d found a cake that was free of tree nuts, but she said there was some sort of mix-up at the bakery at the last moment.” He cited. Abbie couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“Yeah, Okay.” She smirked, dropping a knee into her bed as she pulled back the blankets.

“Abbie,” He scolded, “Surely you do not suppose that she purposefully served a cake to which Delton was intolerant. She would never do such a thing.” He argued.

“Yeah clearly you know her so well, tell me when was it that you found out she was a witch?” Abbie jabbed. The silence on the other end of the line made clear his displeasure in her statements. Abbie sighed as she settled into her bed.

“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.” She conceded. “You’re probably right, it was probably just,” She thought a moment before phrasing her words, “A misunderstanding. But in the future I don’t have a problem baking a cake, and the bakery I use is very accommodating, just let me know.”

“Noted.” Ichabod returned. He leaned back in his seat smiling.

“I was immeasurably proud of their actions this evening. Jeremy for refusing to accept any of the cake in solidarity with his brother, Delton for trying to persuade him to have a slice after all. You realize, those are my sons.” He bragged proudly, bearing a grin so wide Abbie could practically see it through the phone.

She laughed. “Everyone knows those are your sons Ichabod, and yes they’re adorable, and loyal. They truly are their brother’s keepers, that’s for sure.” She’d smiled. “You’re doing a good job with them you know.” She said knowing he needed to hear it.

“I’m afraid not nearly as good as you.” He’d replied.

 

 

Tonight would be another night in which they spoke on the phone because the moment Abbie attempted to pay her mortgage she was flabbergasted to find her loan had a zero balance, and had been paid in full. She was livid, and didn’t dare call him right away for fear she wouldn’t be able to speak rationally. Instead she took a long shower to try to calm down before attempting to contact him. She sat at the edge of her bed with the copy of the mortgage statement she had printed off.

“You said you would stop.” She argued as soon as he picked up.

“I beg your pardon? Stop?” He repeated curiously. “Stop what?” She heard him ask over the faint sound of fingers hitting a keyboard.

“Meddling. My mortgage Crane, _my_ _mortgage_! I told you that I didn’t need that type of help, we talked about this, we agreed. I want you to reverse the payment.” She insisted. Suddenly the typing stopped and she knew she has his full attention.

“Reverse the payment? Impossible. And further, as I recall we agreed that if I saw our son was in need of something, I would procure it. He was in need of a home, and know he has one.”

She hung up the phone, and collapsed back onto her bed too tired to even begin to go there with him. She was in the middle of taking deep cleansing breaths when the phone rang. It was a new practice she was following in order to relieve herself of stress that might be harmful to the baby. Her fingers closed around it and she quickly slung it under her pillow, and continued her breathing. After his fourth call she finally gave in and picked up.

“I’m not speaking to you until you get a hold of my mortgage company and undo what you’ve done.” She outlined calmly.

“Fallacies.” Ichabod drawled leaning back into his chair.

“Excuse me?” Abbie nearly shrieked.

“Oh you heard me. I saw the way in which you gazed upon me only the other evening.” He teased.

Just like that all of her anger began to melt away, and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud because she knew exactly what he was talking about. She had watched him drinking orange juice the other day and was two seconds from attacking him and sucking the loose droplet off of his lips. She smiled a little recalling how his thirst brought about her own. _Damn, why can’t I ever stay mad at him?_ Abbie tried to play it cool but sat up, and crossed her legs wondering if her desire for him had been as readable as he was claiming.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” She asked.

“You know well what it means.” A smile twinkled through his eyes. “You would sooner face a firing squad than cease conversing with me, admit it.” He boasted.

Abbie covered the bottom of the phone while she laughed, cognizant of how turned on she’d become just listening to his flirtatious tone of voice. She could tell he was in a good mood tonight.

“I’m going to let you keep thinking that.” She stated coolly after gathering herself. She heard a soft puff of breath, and could tell she’d made him smile.

“I do regret my inability to break away from work this evening.” He admitted leaning back into his seat. “How is our son?”

“He’s fine, he and J are sleeping. I thought I heard you talking with them earlier?” She asked.

“Yes I did.” Ichabod responded, brows drawn in. “Am I to understand that Jeremy is staying over again, when I spoke with him earlier he stated that Katrina was coming to pick him up as planned.”

“Yeah she called not too long after you did. She said something came up, and asked if he could stay.”

“That’s odd. When I spoke with her earlier she sounded excited about having an evening in. She stated that she’d planned upon preparing us all a large dinner.” He noted, genuinely curious.

Abbie’s eyes narrowed as she stared off into space. _Is he trying to make me jealous?_ She thought. _Like I really want to sit here listening to details about his ex-chick, who’s doing everything in her power to become his next one._    

“I don’t know what came up, and I’m actually pretty tired, it’s getting late so…” She said getting pissed off.

“Abigail.” He admonished, almost able to her the wheels spinning inside of her head.  

“Yeah?” She answered dryly.

“Stop.” He said flatly. Abbie sighed and lay her head against the backboard.

“Stop what?” She said in a tone that sent him imagining how screwed up her face was.

“You know what.” He replied. The other day was the first time they’d had anything near a meaningful conversation in weeks, and hearing her voice again today was a pleasant surprise. He had no intention of letting her end their conversation that easily, especially in regard to something that she needn’t be concerned about.

“I was simply noting that she seemed quite excited to spend the evening with Jeremy when I last spoke with her.”

Ichabod sat quietly a bit istening to dead silence on the other end of the phone.

“How are you?” He asked after a moment.

“I’m good.”  

“And the boys are behaving, listening, doing as you ask?” He questioned.

“Yes.” She answered.

“The first time you ask?” He probed further.

She knew immediately what he was referencing. Abbie was in constant movement at home, doing a million things at one time. There were times she told the boys to do something, and didn’t even realize they hadn’t done it by the third she told them to do it. The other day they made the unfortunate mistake of not doing something she’d already asked them to do while Ichabod was there waiting to pick them up. Abbie thought he was waiting in the car, and didn’t realize he had come inside while she was in the basement. She knew him, had she known he was there she wouldn’t have said anything. They hadn’t spent as much time with him that week, and she wanted the time they had with him to be fun. She came up the stairs into the kitchen carrying the cups she had already asked them to bring up.

“How many times did I ask you guy’s to bring your cups up.” She snapped as they were slipping into their shoes, wanting them to know that they forgot.

“Approximately how many times _did_ she request that you take care of you dishware?” She heard his voice call from the living room. The boys froze and she instantly felt bad for them. Quiet sorrys’ started pouring out of them, but it was already too late.

“Stand up.” Ichabod stated now standing over them. “How many times?” He asked again.

“Um, I think twice.” They both replied looking at each other trying to get their story straight. It was actually three times, but they were already in enough trouble. Ichabod stood their glaring at them, and Abbie spoke up to try to lessen the tension.

“It’s okay, I know you guys are probably in a rush, it’s no…” She was going to say big deal, but the frown Ichabod shot her made it clear he wouldn’t appreciate any contradictions in that moment. They’d agreed in the beginning to support each other and present a unified front when disciplining the Delton.

Ichabod returned his attention to the boys. “Twice. You think.” He’d stated raising his brows, amazed at their callous reply.

“And how many times should she have had to ask you to do something?” He questioned. They sucked in quiet heavy breaths while looking up at him.

“Once.” They mumbled, shoulders slouching.

Ichabod walked over to Abbie, grabbed the cups from her hands and took them back downstairs. He came back up and stood in front of the boys, arms folded behind his back.

“Did you have breakfast today?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“And what did you have.”

“Oatmeal, and bacon, and fruit.” The boys answered quietly speaking over one another as the recalled what they’d eaten.

“That sounds lovely. Tell me was it suitable, did you enjoy it?” He asked.

“Yes sir.”

“And who prepared it for you.”

“Mom,” “Miss Abbie.” Delton and Jeremy replied in unison.

“Did you have a meal at camp today?” He questioned.

“Yes.”

“What did you eat?” Ichabod stood listening as the boys listed off what Abbie had packed them for lunch.

“And who prepared and packed your lunch?”

“Miss Abbie,” “Mom.” They responded.

“You look nice. What handsome short pants you are both wearing, quite sharp. Fine shirts, and stylish shoes. Not a wrinkle in between the two of you.” He observed. “Someone has taken a great deal of pride in you both, a pair of well put together young men I say. Who procured these garments for you and fashioned you as such?”

“Mom” “Miss Abbie.”

“Who picked you up from camp today?”

“Miss Abbie.” “Mom”

“Did you have dinner?” Ichabod went on.

“Yes sir.” He listened as they told him what they’d eaten.

“Turkey spaghetti, salad, and bread.” He repeated. “That sounds delightful. Who prepared it?” He asked sharply. By this point their heads were hanging and they could barely meet his eye.

“Mom.” “Miss Abbie.”

“Jeremy you had an appointment with the doctor yesterday did you not? One that neither I nor your mother were able to attend. Who took you?”

“Miss Abbie.” He answered quietly.

He looked down at the pocket of their shorts, and could see Delton’s and Jeremy’s iPods poking out from them.

“Hand me the iPods.” He demanded, as they fought back tears.

“Who purchased these for you, who loaded them with music and games?”

Their bottom lips seemed to protrude from their mouths in near synchronization, as the handed them over.

“Mom.” “Miss Abbie.” Their voice had fallen to a whisper, which prompted Ichabod to make them repeat their answers louder.

“Miss Abbie! Mum!” Ichabod said feigning surprise. “She does a great deal for you does she not?” He asked.

“Yes sir.” They replied.

“Tell me once more what it was she asked of you?” He asked quizzically.  The boys stared down at their shoes, red eyed, and sniffling.

“Tut-tut eyes up.” Ichabod stated.

“To bring our cups upstairs.” They answered.

“Seconds. A task that it would have taken a couple of speedsters like yourselves but mere seconds to complete, and yet, you chose not to do it.” He observed.

“What do you suppose would happen if she chose not to do some of the things that she does for you?” He asked eyes boring into them.

They boys shrugged their shoulders and shook their head knowing there was nothing they could say.

“I will be holding on to these devices until the both of you have proven yourselves more dutiful. Apologize, then go downstairs and retrieve your cups, place them in the sink, then go _upstairs_ and change into you attire for yard-work. We are no longer travelling to the batting cages, we are cleaning the garage. Is that understood?”   He stated.

“Yes sir.” The boys answered before walking over to an on-looking Abbie. She reached her arms around them as they squeezed her tightly and sniffled their apologies.

“Sorry mom, sorry Miss Abbie.” They said teary eyed.

“I know, it’s okay.” She replied kissing their faces. She headed into the kitchen while they went upstairs to change, and Ichabod followed behind her noting that she seemed upset with him. She couldn’t help it, her emotions were running every which way, and she really didn’t want them getting into trouble. At the end of the day they were wonderful boys—her babies. They drew her colorful, amazing pictures, and made up goofy songs to make her laugh. Just the week before they had picked her wildflowers, and even tried to gift her a garter snake they’d found slithering around them. Needless to say she kept the flowers and returned the snake, but it was the thought that counted.   

“Abbie.” Ichabod called after her.

She turned around to face him, doing a lousy job of hiding her emotions.

“I know you think me overly harsh, but…we are raising men. This is the only way that I know how to do that. They will be better for it.” He’d pledged.

“I know.” She said seeing his point. “But…they haven’t gotten to see much of you this week, and they were _so_ excited. They didn’t want to disappoint you.” She shrugged. “I was hoping you guy’s could have a good time.”

“And we shall, working.” He stated stepping forward. “It is important that they honor your care and commitment to them at every turn, it is vital for them to gain appreciation. They are growing, rapidly, before long they will be fully grown men.”

“—They’re just kids Ichabod. And I’m fine with them not giving a crap right now about the things that I do for them, because I know their hearts, and years from now every drop of love I give them will still be with them. When they grow up they’ll remember it, they’ll understand…then. That’s when they’ll appreciate it.” She’d replied leaning back against the cabinet.

“But you…they want to be you. They had me out there helping them with their swing for hours yesterday so they could impress you tonight. They want so much to please you, so no I didn’t want them getting into trouble when they haven’t seen you outside of getting dropped off at camp in three days.”

“I’m trying.” He shot back, causing Abbie to throw her hands up defensively.

“I know. But so are they.” She reminded him. Her heart fell as she watched her words hit him with a gravity she never intended. His bright eyes flattened and dimmed to a fraction of their normal brilliance. For a few seconds his shoulders sank into his frame, while he mulled over what she’d said. She could tell he was hurt and quite possibly offended. She stepped closer to him just wanting to touch him, wanting him to know that she could see how hard he was trying.

“I shall endeavor to do better.” He announced.

“I wasn’t trying to blame you or point fingers, that’s not what this is.” She clarified. “They just…they miss you, that’s all.”

Ichabod’s eyes sank into hers as a long sigh broke his lips. “And I miss them.” He proclaimed. He slipped his hand back through his locks and strolled over to the kitchen table. He missed Abbie too, more than he cared to express. He had long learned how to avoid conversations that led to him begging for something that she wasn’t ready or willing to give. So he hadn’t spoken to her of their relationship, nor the nights he’d spent stretched out across his office sofa praying for their reunion. Sure he checked in with her every night, but it was a simple text message wishing her goodnight, and reminding her of his love. He slipped out of his suit jacket and slung it over the back of a chair, and quickly began twisting loose the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“Perhaps if we finish in a timely manner, we will visit the batting cages after all.” He decided.

 

“Abbie?” Ichabod said bringing her out of her head and back to their conversation. Abbie gripped the phone against her ear reminding herself to answer his original query.

“Yes, they’re behaving.” She answered. There was silence on the other end of the line, almost to the point that it became uncomfortable, and she knew he was remembering some of the other things that had happened that night. Ichabod reached forward and plucked a pen from his desk twisting it between his fingers.

“Are you still cross with me?” He said after a moment.

“About my mortgage, yes.” She replied, reclining to her pillows.

“No. About some of the things that I said the other day.” He stated.

“I wasn’t angry to begin with…I was…I don’t know…I guess I was little stunned. It made feel like you don’t think very much of me.”

“I think the world of you.” He corrected her. “I know that you are intelligent, and capable, and strong...”

“—Why do I feel a but coming on here?” She asked.

“Nothing of the sort. However, I do believe that you simply fail to recognize the affect you have upon others…particularly of the male variety.” He reasoned recalling their discussion. Abbie tried to breathe though the stress she felt mounting in her chest as she thought back to the argument they’d had.

 

Ichabod was in the kitchen waiting for the boys to change into their yard clothes. She didn’t know if it was the lighting, the soft yellow glow of evening sun and the way it painted hair and skin, or simply the fact that she hadn’t seen him in a while. But my was he handsome. She had smiled to herself reflecting upon how desperately her opinion of him changed since their initial meeting. His physical attributes were lost upon her then, and remained so until he had already started burrowing his way inside of her heart. And then she saw him, perhaps more suddenly and clearer than anything she’d ever seen before. Every flaw or fault he had seemed to vanish, all of them diluted and washed away like a drop of water in the open sea. She understood him enough to comprehend where his flaws were grounded, and they were nothing in comparison to all of the good he did. To her, he had become this sort of living perfection, not perfect in the literal sense but more-so a spirit that complemented hers impeccably. She knew with a frightening certainty that no one would ever become what he was to her again.

She would always be his.

He’d just removed his dress shirt and she was staring at him trying to recall a time when someone could get her that revved up just by being in the same room. She didn’t realize how excited she’d gotten until her fingers started pulling around the collar of her t-shirt.

It had been nearly three weeks since they’d made love and it was longest she’d been in the same space as him since the birthday party. Something about his presence was inspiriting, and she couldn’t quite get over how excited she was simply to see his face. Her heart sped up as the words _come home_ continuously circled around her head, but she fought through the urge to say them. She had it in her mind to wait. There was only three weeks to go until she was out of the more dangerous zone with their baby, and she just wanted to make it until then. Still it was getting too difficult. He had taken on too many roles in her life for her not to miss him when he was gone. Her husband, her lover, and best friend, the man she had chosen to raise a child with.   She returned to unloading the dishwasher, pretending that her stomach wasn’t weak and her heart wasn’t sore. She saw him walk over to the refrigerator out of the corner of her eye. Just as he reached out for the door handle he cautiously pulled his hand back.

“May I?” He asked looking over her causing Abbie to roll her eyes.

“Ugh,” She sighed quietly. “Of course.” She said locking her eyes with his.  

She stole glances at him as he stood a few paces off from her finishing up a container of orange juice he’d just pulled from the fridge. He cocked his head back allowing the loosened portion of his hair to fall down his back. A soft swallowing noise came from his throat as he polished off the contents of the plastic container. Abbie licked her lips without noticing as she watched him. The removal of his jacket and shirt only served to accentuate the nice bulge in the front of his pants, and she couldn’t stop thinking about slamming him against the wall and tearing his clothes off. Her eyes drifted up his frame getting a rush of how hard and sturdy she knew it to be. _One, get a hold of yourself he’s your husband, not some clothing model in a catalogue, although I would buy any pair of pants I saw him in on G.P., Two, it’s not like he’s naked he has on suit pants and an undershirt which you’ve seen him in a million times before because, he’s your husband. Three_ , she stole another glance at him and her stomach tightened as her mind went blank.

_Damn._

She quickly turned her head away wondering for a moment if other people thought he was a sexy as she did, or if she just feel that way because she loved him. There was something about him in his semi-relaxed state, sprawling, stretched, muscle standing straight as a board atop those size fourteen water skis he tried to call shoes. It didn’t take long for her to discover that slipping into them to check the mail was about a hundred times more difficult than putting on her own shoes. He pulled the jug from his mouth and backhanding the juice from his lips. Abbie drew in a quiet breath recalling the countless occasions he’d done the same thing after raising his head from between her thighs. Ichabod caught her staring out of the corner of his eye, and did a double take realizing how intently she studied him.

He’d been preoccupied at work but not so much that he couldn’t appreciate how long it had been since they’d shared any sort of intimacy. His spirits soared as he noticed her attraction to him, and he fought valiantly to contain the smile he felt growing from his belly. There had been a hunger in her gaze that threatened to uncage the desires he’d been struggling to repress. He quickly drifted through a vision of having her upon every surface in the kitchen. He reined in control of his thoughts the moment he felt himself starting to swell. When he left her bed those weeks ago he thought surely that she would have asked him to return home by the weeks end. His pride took a hit when she did not, and he had no intention of allowing that to happen again. He eyed her, baggy sweats, loose fitting faded T-shirt, soft curls beneath a yellow headscarf, and not one drop of makeup. _She was a goddess._    He knew from the moment he met her that he was overmatched, but he never understood how severely until his lips wrapped around hers. He watched her fingers tighten around the dishrag as her wrist spun aimless circles over the countertop.

He strolled toward her. Abbie heard his footsteps and tried to calm down, but couldn’t manage to stop her heart from thumping louder and louder in time with his steps. It wasn’t until he was directly behind her that he spoke.

“Can I offer my assistance?” He questioned in a low velvety voice as he stood behind her.

“With what?” She repeated twisting her head slightly up over her shoulder. _Oh God._ Her pulse raced, as a wave of his scent hit her and she got caught in the undercurrent. It took everything inside of her not to press her nose against him and take a deep whiff. Even from this proximity she could tell he was still lightly dusting his torso with baby powder before putting on his undershirt, that coupled with the way his deodorant and soap mingled with his natural scent did things to her she couldn’t explain. She quickly turned her head back to her task only to have his arms encage her frame as his hands flattened against the countertop beside her. He leaned over her and placed his lips to her ear.

“That spot.” He offered in a tone so seductive it blew her nostrils wide. She closed her eyes feeling her arousal intensify.

“What spot?” She asked in the smallest wisp of a voice.

Ichabod smiled, lowering his head even further. “The invisible one that you have been cleansing for the past three and a half minutes.” He teased.

_Fucking asshole!_

Abbie was instantly mad as hell, her elbow thrashed backwards jabbing him in the side. He knew good and damn well she was addicted to him, to making love to him, how _dare_ he play with her habit like that. But when she turned around the smug smile curling his lips, and the playful spark skipping through his eyes served to lessen her chagrin.

“You make me sick.” She grinned, folding her arms in front of her. He dropped his palm to her hip like it was nothing. Like it was just something he had been doing for the past few weeks, even though he had barely looked at her. Like it was something that didn’t send electricity pulsing through every cell in her body, and set her skin aflame.

“That I can accept,” He stated giving that same hip a gently squeeze. “So long as I am also that which makes you better.” He stepped back bearing a small smirk as the boys came down the stairs.

 

“All ready Dad.” Delton stated coming to his side. “When we’re done cleaning the garage do you want to see the treehouse we’re building?” He added out of nowhere. Ichabod looked down at his sons.

“A tree house?” He asked, a curious inflection coating his tone. “You’re building a treehouse?”

“Yep!” Jeremy piped up. “Well really Miss Abbie and Mr. Veeby are building it but D and I have been helping.”  

“Oh.” Ichabod said turning to Abbie. “I was unaware that you had commissioned someone to build a treehouse.” He said surprised.

Abbie felt a dampness spreading through the center of her palms. She and Abraham had just started working on the treehouse earlier in the week, and she still hadn’t figured out a good way to tell Ichabod. Hell, she hadn’t figured out a good to tell him about their friendship, let alone the fact that he was helping with a treehouse, and in the process hanging out with the kids. She started to fess up right then and there but decided against it. Telling him would have only detracted his attention away from the boys, he would have spent his entire visit arguing with her instead of spending time with them. It wasn’t a big deal, but she knew Ichabod wouldn’t see it that way. It all started when she and Abraham were having lunch in the diner one day and she was going over the building plans she’d sketched. He saw them and immediately insisted upon helping as recompense for her assistance with helping him secure proper identification, and legal documents.

“Miss Mills I will not accept no as an answer.” He’d maintained. “Have no fear, I am an excellent craftsman, and as your friend, I would not dream of allowing you to go this on your own.”

So far they had only gotten an evening’s worth of work done on it, the second day they were rained out and the boys had gone off with Jenny, Macey and Irving to an indoor waterpark. Abbie and Abraham on the other hand ended up in the family room eating pizza until they hated themselves, while burning through half the first season of Game of Thrones.

“Mr. Veeby?” Ichabod questioned. Abbie had actually introduced him as Mr. Van Brunt, but Delton loving to issue out nicknames asked if they could call him Mr. V.B.  

“Yep Dad, and it’s going to be so sweet. He’s pretty cool, he even showed me and J how to measure some of the wood we’re using.” Delton added.

“Did he?” Ichabod asked, donning a grin Abbie didn’t quite believe.

“Sure did! Come on. You have to see this.” Delton exclaimed grabbing his hand.

Abbie looked on as the boys ushered their father into the backyard to show them the beginnings of their celebrated treehouse.

Ten minutes later Ichabod came back inside alone having instructed them to start organizing their toys.  

“Ichabod we literally just began working on it this week.” Abbie said before turning around to face him. “I was going to tell you.” She offered noticing the slight look of discontent across his face.

“—No.” He droned in a throaty voice, waving off her explanation as if to say he didn’t have a problem with it. But she knew from the moment it was mentioned he did.

“The foundation looks quite nice, the boys are certainly ebullient in regard to its construction.” He admitted bearing a small grin.

“Yeah.” She said moving closer to him. “But?” She asked, waiting. He pressed his lips together trying to bite his tongue. A moment later he let her see the he’d hidden behind his smile.

“Have I not sent you a missive upon the close of every evening inquiring as to whether you and the children have all that is needed?”

_There it is._

“You have, and I do. We do.” She attested. Ichabod looked down on her wounded.

“Surely you must have known that I would have been overjoyed to participate in the development and building of their playhouse.” He charged.

“You can still participate, because we just started.” Abbie said slowly emphasizing every word, thinking perhaps he didn’t hear her the first time. “You saw, only the foundation’s complete. Honestly the blueprints are easy to follow and right out in the garage, you guys can work on it today if you like. I could even come out and help in a little while.” She told him. She took another small step and took hold of his hand.

“I didn’t tell you because you’ve been really busy, and you were especially preoccupied with work around the time I was planning for it.” She stated. Abbie peered up at his still stiff features and pulled the backside of his hand to her lips.

“Ichabod.” She smiled. Ichabod gently squeezed her hand as a little smile touched his lips.   A kiss, a smile, and all was forgiven and forgotten. She made him feel like music, a harmony, a melody, a piece of art.    

“I have at least three hours before I need to return to the office.” He stated wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. He bent forward and left a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“You feel so good.” He sighed laying his head against hers.

“So do you.” She murmured softly. Abbie pushed upward lifting her lips to his to steal what she thought would be a quick kiss. A soft moan inched from his chest and she pulled back checking her greed before things got out of control.

_He isn’t here for this_.

“I suppose after tidying the garage, the boys might prefer working on the treehouse over a trip to the batting cages.” He reasoned. A luminous smile brightened Abbie’s face, she couldn’t have been more pleased with the way he came around. The moment he sees her smile it’s like he’s jilted back to reality and he remembers the thing that’s been sitting beneath his skin.  

“I suppose this Mr. Veeby has provided satisfactory references.” Ichabod probed.

“References?” Abbie smiled. “It’s just a tree house.” She pointed out.

“All the same, if you are paying for his labor is it not wise to see to it that he is of sufficient skill and character.” He questioned.

“I’m not paying him, he’s doing it as a favor.” She said, before she had the good sense to shut her mouth. Ichabod leaned his neck back. He still felt like music, a harmony, a melody, a piece of art. Only now he realized that she was the artist, and not some mediocre or ordinary artist fiddling about with things, she was Bach.  

“Not paying him?!” He repeated mouth falling open, as he let her go. “A favor?” He added as his brows inched toward his hairline. “In service of what?” He insinuated, standing over her.

Abbie’s eyes shot up at him offering a warning, but his unapologetic gaze informed her that he had no intention of heeding it.

“He’s a friend, cooks at a restaurant I eat at on lunch sometimes. I helped him with a legal matter, he’s helping me with the treehouse. Simple as that.” She summarized in a sharp tone.

“For you perhaps.” He decided.

“Crane.”   Abbie stated tilting her head to the side. He was quiet a moment standing still as he leered at her with a look of resentment she could almost feel invading her skin.

“Riddle me this,” He said holding a finger up. “Do you believe it proper or wise to…” Ichabod sighed and grunted under his breath trying to figure out a way to continue without causing an argument.

“Toooo?” Abbie looked up at him as she lowered her head in anticipation of him finishing his question. Ichabod took a deep breath and continued on.

“To.” He stopped again before rephrasing. “Do you think it prudent to have a stranger around you and the children when”

“—I told you he isn’t a stranger, I eat lunch nearly every day at his place of employment.” Abbie interjected.

“And that is one thing. However allowing him here where he can readily see that there is no man about the house is”

“—Whoa-whoa-whoa, wait a minute.” Abbie said staring at him like she was only seeing him for the first time. She stepped back and raised her palms.

“Man about the house?” She repeated, halfway in an effort to convince herself she heard him correctly. Her hands flopped to her side. “Wow. Listen I understand that you give new meaning to the idea of a different time zone but do you have any idea how that sounds?”

“I know precisely what I’ve said, and further”

“—Can we not please.” Abbie mumbled briefly covering her face with her hands. “Can we please not do the whole caveman bit today?  It’s been a long day, and I just, I can’t, you’re upset and you’re not thinking.” She informed him looking up into his eyes.

“Upset?” Ichabod gasped. “Why ever should I be upset? Oh, perhaps because my _wife_ has a male friend whom she has introduced to my children, and the four of them started constructing a treehouse together.” He hissed. “Remind me again how that could possibly be upsetting Abigail?”

“Just…” Abbie pushes out a heavy breath, as her eyes grow tired. He can tell she’s upset when her hands start flying everywhere. “I was just trying to do something nice for the boys. As I said I didn’t ask you to help because you’ve been busy. That’s it. Someone offered, I accepted, but if it’s an issue _I will tell him never mind_.” She offered.

“Good then, tell him as much.” Ichabod snarled without batting an eye.

_Okay, I wasn’t expecting that._ She thought surprised _._ He starts marching toward the garage door but something turns him around.

“You are behaving as though I am somehow unreasonable for inquiring about the personality and character of the person you have chosen to allow around the children?”  He argued.

“That is not what you were doing.” She stated, moving closer to him. “I know you, and I already know what the problem is. But I’ll humor you, first...answer me this though, _you_ riddle me this; Do you think I would have someone around that I felt might present a danger to the kids?”

“Abbie the point is”

“—Nuh uh, answer the question?” She urged.

“No.” He replied begrudgingly.

“Okay and based off of the woman that you know me to be, do you feel that if a danger did present itself I would somehow be unable to handle it?” She asked incredulously. Ichabod knew with all certainty that not only the house but the entire city was safer because she was in it.

“No.” He admitted. “But..”

“Okay.” Abbie said nodding her head. “So what this is about is you wanting to beat on your chest,” She snapped tapping her fist against her upper trunk, “And stomp your feet, and make sure no man who isn’t Gideon, or Irving ever comes around here when you’re not present. You sure you don’t want to go just outside and piss along the perimeter of the yard, that might be easier.”

“Do not be ridiculous.” He said dismissively. Abbie closed the space between them, and gazed up into his eyes.

“And now I have the pleasure of being ridiculous because of what, because I don’t need a man to protect me.” She posed. “Or maybe it’s just because you don’t trust me as much as you think you do, but _I_ am the one you say lacks trust.” She suggested.

“Oh, you I trust.” He retorted. He did, it was men that he never trusted around her. Abbie was far and away the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but that wasn’t what worried him. To be honest there was something about her that stretched far beyond any notions of physical aesthetics, and that was what he sought to guard. He found it hard to believe that any available men along with a few who weren’t would simply settle for her friendship if given the choice. He’d had the displeasure of meeting a few of her ‘friends’ before. Luke Morales, Andy Brooks from the station, and Nick Hawley from the orphanage. Every last one of them had, like him, fallen in love with her. She saw everything. She could walk into any crime scene and notice things that no one else had a prayer of discovering, but she never seemed to see this. She never realized how smitten they all were with her.

“If you trust me then act like it.” She stated. “My heart…you already know that it belongs to you. And if by some impossible chance it didn’t, clearly there hasn’t been enough time for anyone to have earned the right to _meet my son_. When you insinuate things the way that you do, do you know how it makes me feel as a person?” She questioned staring at him intently. “As a mother?” She added. Ichabod reached for her as soon as he heard the hurt in her voice.

“It’s fine, I’m okay.” She said backing away. “I have to get their lunches packed for tomorrow and they’re waiting for you.” She said nodding toward the door. Ichabod slowly ambled closer to her, rife with disdain for the small-mindedness that had just come out of him. He knew that she hadn’t been herself in some time, that something was off with her, and his attitude couldn’t have made it any better. She was working fulltime, and taking impeccable care of the boys with very little help from anyone, himself included. Instead of commending her for that, he’d insulted her. She was the most complete and capable person he knew, and through his jealousy he sought to reduce her to something that she was not. He watched her as she took ingredients from the refrigerator and placed them upon the countertop all the while ignoring his presence. He stepped behind her as she began assembling sandwiches. He listened to a soft breath fall from her mouth as his palm fell to her hip. She tried to swallow her emotion as his other hand reached over hers, and separated it from the bread. Her face broke when he pulled that hand to her chest and closed her in his arms. She stopped fighting it and leaned back to rest her head against his solid chest. She seemed to feel a heightened sense of everything these days, and this was no different.  

“Okay?”   He whispered, and in a moment of truth she slowly shook her head no across his chest. He held her so much tighter then, silently. There was security in it. In the feel of his heart beating against her, in his breath slipping through her hair, while his lips pressed into her scalp. He wasn’t sleeping enough, that together with being away from her sent his mind reeling more often than he cared to admit. Still all in all there wasn’t a soul he had ever trusted more. He wanted to tell her as much, there was so many things he wanted to say to her, but every time he opened his mouth the only words he could think were _allow me to come home_ , so he said nothing. He held her close until he felt her elbow gently come up and she tried to turn around to face him. He peered down enraptured at the small part between her lips, and found himself immediately overcome by the intensity with which he loved her. He would forsake the heavens and burn in a thousand hells for her, but this had to stop. It killed him to know that she was on the other side of something he couldn’t break through. His thumbs stroked along the sides of her cheek.

“I’m here.” He assured her, tone hushed. He turned to walk away but she held on to his arm.

“Crane try to understand...” She appealed grabbing his t-shirt.

“—Apple. I have tried, and still I do not.” He pled taking her fingers from his shirt and gripping them. “But I am here nonetheless…when you are here, I should wish to know posthaste.”   He released her hand and started for the door.

“Wait, wa—wait!” She stammered, tugging his arm. “I have something to tell you. We…” She froze, mouth hanging wide as she struggled to push the words out. Seconds ticked by as her mind went through a million different calculations, but everything boiled down to one thing. When you love someone, when you have a heart that belongs to you, the duty owed to it is nothing less than supreme. There’s a responsibility to care for it in a way that you would want your own cared for. He would be hurt either way. If they were apart, if they reunited and the baby didn’t survive. It just seemed that they had a better chance of coming through things together.

“What is it?” He pleaded.

“We, I mean I, I’m p”

The door swung open, and their eyes quickly crashed upon Delton and Jeremy hopping through it.

“Dad we finished organizing all of our toys, what would like us to do next?” Delton asked.

“Oh yes of course.” Ichabod said having momentarily forgotten what he’d tasked them with. “If all is in order, perhaps we can spend some time working on your treehouse.” Ichabod replied, inspiring a round of cheers.

“I just need one moment with your mother, and I shall be right out.” He informed them. His eyes followed them watching as they bounced out of the door. As soon as it closed he turned his attention back to Abbie.

“What is it that you were saying?” He questioned, wondering if he had finally gotten through to her.

“Um, I.” Abbie looked toward the door knowing that just on the other side of it the boy were waiting patiently, but understandably anxious to spend some time with their father.

“I am pre-paring a fruit pizza for dessert. You’re, you’re welcome to join us.” She sputtered, deflated.

“Oh.” Ichabod breathed. “Is that all?” He asked.

Abbie looked up at him and nodded her head. “Mm-hmm.” She said quietly.

He had accepted her invitation but it never materialized. When all was said and done he was called away for business after only a little over an hour with the boys.  

 

 

Abbie pulled her knees up in bed and readjusted the phone. “Are you still there?” She asked.

“Yes.” He replied in a near whisper.

“I think that the reason I don’t see this affect you believe I have upon men, is because it’s mostly in your head. I don’t see it because it doesn’t exist.” She said quietly. “And even if it did…”

After a half minute Ichabod pulled the phone from his ear to make certain the call hadn’t dropped.

“If it did what?” He asked, hearing her gentle sigh through the phone.

“I’m only concerned with the affect that I have upon you.” She confessed. Ichabod dropped his head once again regretting the way he had acted the other evening.  

“I was thinking, the other night that I was called away.” He spoke. “If someone is willing to help you with the treehouse, I have no objection to it. I thought to push it off until I have more time to assist you but quite truthfully I am uncertain as to when that might be…and the boys are so enjoying the act of building it. Although perhaps going forward you can inform me when you will be working on it, and I will do my best to be present and offer my assistance.  I also wish to meet this Mr. Veeby the boys seem so impressed with. Delton mentioned something in regard to him showing him and his brother a few fencing strategies the other day.”

“Oh, I think they were just goofing around during a break.” Abbie explained.

“I am not certain how I feel about it, bad habits once acquired, especially in fencing can be quite difficult to break. Where did you say you met him again?” He asked.

“Uh, he works at burger joint I sometimes go to for lunch.” Abbie said avoiding lying about where she actually met him.

“Oh, well perhaps you and I should go there for lunch sometime this week. Are you available tomorrow?”

“Um, I have a hair appointment. She stated. “Oh. The rest of my week is quite full, maybe sometime next week.” He offered.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Abbie acquiesced feeling like time was suddenly speeding up.

Ichabod would never believe that Abraham was fully rehabilitated, at least not to the point of wanting him around the boys. This entire situation was all bad, and Abbie knew she couldn’t keep it from him forever. She had hoped in the beginning that she could somehow serve as a bridge between the two men, but the more she talked with Abraham the clearer it became how badly he’d felt betrayed by Ichabod. The only thing that gave her any hope was the fondness with which he looked upon the boys. She could tell that they reminded him of his relationship with Ichabod, that they reminded him of the brother he used to have. After seeing him with them she felt a little silly for the lecture she gave him before he met them.  

“Look, I know Ichabod isn’t your favorite person, but he’s theirs, and they are mine. So help me if you say anything disparaging or out of the way about their father…”

Abraham looked down at Abbie and noticed she was clenching the hammer she had just removed from the truck.

“Miss Mills.” He laughed. “I would not dream of speaking ill of their father in their presence, or anywhere that they might have even the smallest opportunity of hearing me. Give me some credit.”

“Just making sure.” Abbie smiled, handing him the hammer.

On the other hand she wasn’t sure if Ichabod could ever put aside the things Abraham had done, joining league with the enemy, the masses he’d killed when he rode as the horseman. Then there was the matter of him ripping her from their bed. She’d surrendered that bone without picking it the moment he saved Jenny, but for Ichabod it wasn’t that simple. While he was grateful that Abraham had helped Abbie fight off the demons bent upon delivering her to Moloch, he still held a heavy load of animosity toward him. Abbie began to wonder if the men had done too much to ever repair the damage to their relationship, and as much as she wanted them to reconcile, maybe it was enough that they had laid their weapons down.

“I overreacted. The other day I mean.” Ichabod admitted. “What I mean to say is…I trust you, and I do not wish that my children be shut off from what sounds like a wonderful experience simply because of their father’s ego.”

“Hmm, go on.” She smiled. Ichabod flashed a buoyant grin sensing her amusement.

“And unbounded bullheadedness, and pretension.” He continued.

“And?” Abbie poked.

“And…insecurity.” He added, absent the trace of amusement that was just in his voice. Abbie sat up against the headboard at hearing this new serious tone.

“You know you never have to worry about them looking up to another man the way they look up to you. It’s _never_ going to happen.” She promised. “You’re daddy.”

Ichabod remained quiet a few seconds before speaking.

“Say that again.” He requested.

“You’re never going to…”

“—Not that.” He cut in.

“It’s never going to happen…” She offered.

“After that.” He stated with a slight drawl in his tone.

“You’re daddy?” She said trying to gauge what he wanted her to repeat.

“Am I now?” He asked, baritone voice echoing through the phone.

Abbie’s lips separated as she waited for her frozen brain to thaw. She knew what he was asking her, and though it wasn’t the first time it had been asked of her she was a little surprised to hear it coming from him. She had never called anyone anything like that before despite Luke’s numerous pleas for her to call him Papi.

“But your name isn’t Papi, it’s Luke.” She responded one day.

“Aw come on Abs it’s not like I’m trying to be your father, or think of you as my daughter or something, that’s gross. You calling me Papi just lets me know that I’m the man, that I’m _your_ man.” He’d said.

She understood it, really she did, but when it came down to it Luke never had it like that. And though Ichabod was an entirely different animal, it was still asking a lot. Ironically she’d actually attributed the term daddy to him once or twice when singing a song or two. She thought of him whenever she heard Beyoncé’s _Drunk In Love_. The line ‘ _can’t keep your eyes off my fatty daddy’_ called him to mind each time she heard it. It _was_ him. Ichabod had turned scoping her booty into an art-form, if it was an Olympic sport he would take the gold every single time. It didn’t matter what his eyes were focused on before she entered a room, the moment she did she always knew where they would eventually end up. She’d lost count of how many times she had walked into a room and felt his eyes gliding over her almost to the point of invasiveness. She’d turn and nearly catch him, but he would quickly return to his book. At times though, she would hear the sound of whatever he was reading dropped to the couch followed by him walking his lengthy bones up behind her. She knew then whatever she thought she was doing would be postponed. Other times he’d just lift an eyebrow, shake his head, and adjust himself. But relating to and enjoying something in a song was one thing, actually calling him daddy was something completely different.

_No. No way_. She thought.

Because of Luke’s infatuation with the idea of it, she’d already gathered her thoughts about it, and decided she was against it.   She had always thought that calling a man of no familial connection ‘daddy’ was a need based thing, and though Ichabod provided for her wants and desires, everything he did for her she could do for herself. Even if she couldn’t, his doing so still wouldn’t warrant her calling him by that name.

_Boy please._ _Not gonna happen_ , she silently decided. She was getting ready to tell him just that when an image of their last sexual encounter flashed through her mind, and a little unruly voice pushed to the front of her head begging her to reconsider.

_But the dick though_. It gently reminded her. As much as she wanted to reason it away, or downplay everything this voice was telling her, she couldn’t. His dick game alone was foolish but when paired with the rest of him…with the way he gave love…it became spiritually awakening, and stance changing foolish. Not only could she not do what he did to her, no one could, certainly not anyone she’d ever dealt with. Abbie closed her eyes and quickly responded,

“Yes,” before she changed her mind.

“Yes what?” He asked softly. Abbie sighed, and gently bit her lip to ward off a small grin. He always wanted it all, and she couldn’t get over how he didn’t seem the least bit surprised by her response. _At least that makes one of us_ , Abbie reasoned trying to get a handle on how far he’d taken her yet again. Ichabod’s tongue swiveled across his lips as he awaited her reply.

“Abbie?”

“Yes, you’re daddy.” She stated almost breathlessly. A small upward bend found Ichabod pursed lips, causing his ears to pin back slightly like an affection starved dog having their favorite spot rubbed. A sparkle lit his eyes, and both spirits and shoulders were raised when he spoke again.

“And what about you?” He finally asked.

“What about me?” She replied playing with the bottom of her t-shirt feeling a little more open and exposed than she had in a while.

“Have you been behaving?” He requested, in a voice growing sexier by the second.

“Not. At. All.” He heard her reply, and felt his jaw tighten at her sultry tone.

“And what pray tell do you suppose I should do with you?” He flirted. Abbie smiled, bending one of her knees, and throwing her free hand over it.

“I don’t know. Maybe you could let me off with a warning this time?” She answered.

“Oh Mrs. Crane, I’m afraid a warning would never prove useful for your sort…I think it has been well demonstrated that the rod is the only measure of correction that you respond to. So in keeping with that practice, I think it’s best you receive it most thoroughly and then off to bed.” He decided. Abbie felt her cheeks grow warm, as his voice slipped through the phone.    

“Too late.” She informed him. “I’m already in bed. So I guess you’ll just have to settle for, you know…giving me the rod.”

Ichabod sucked in a quick breath as he stretched his legs out beneath his desk. He reached down tracing his fingertips over his shaft. He briefly considered rising to lock his office door in the off chance someone was still there, but first he wanted to ascertain how far this conversation was going. There was a near murderous fire raging through his veins, and he wanted to be frank with her. He wanted to facetime so he could see her face, so he could see Chloe’s face as well. Instead he asked her something a little less overt.

_Patience Ichabod._ He reminded himself.

“And what are we wearing in bed?” He whispered.  

“ _I_ am wearing a T-shirt,” she said pressing her legs together to subdue the tingles pulsing between her thighs. She pulled her knees together and slowly swayed them from side to side.

“And.” He probed.

“And what?”

“Your bottoms, what color are they?” He solicited, mind already sorting through some of the various panties she’d worn. “What style?”

“I’m not wearing any bottoms. I just got out of the shower a little bit ago…just finished lotioning up. I was going to bed anyway so why bother with putting any on.”

She heard him gasp, and felt herself blushing heavily in response to his excitement.

“How are you sitting? I need to see you.” He said.

“I’m laying, my head against the pillow, my knees are bent…there is no space between them.”

“Okay I have you.” Ichabod said closing his eyes to imagine her just as she described.

“Widen your legs a foot.” He whispered.

“Crane.” Abbie said wondering if they were really about to take it there.

“Oh no. Daddy.” He corrected her. Abbie chuckled.

“My foot or your foot?” She inquired.

“Mine.” He specified.

“Done.”

“I am standing at your bedside.” He stated.

Something in the way he said it caused her heartbeat to double as if he actually were.

“I’m looking up at you.” She replied quietly. Ichabod closed his eyes to get a clearer picture of hers.

“And you’re beautiful.” He said with a sincerity that made her feel that way. “Tell me of your shower. How was it?”

“Luxuriating.”

“Did you think of me as you bathed?” He solicited, tone full of lust.

“Yes. The entire time.” She admitted.

“And what thoughts of me came to you?” He asked.

“Lots of them.” She revealed. “Being with you, talking to you. How good it feels when you touch me, the way your lips leave a trail of goose bumps along my inner thigh. But for some reason tonight, I kept thinking back to the last time you were here…where I am now. I couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you looked when you came.” Abbie heard a heavy breath through the phone.

“Did you touch yourself as you thought of me in the shower?” He queried.

“No.”

“No?” He asked surprised. “Why not?”

“Because.” She responded vaguely.

“Of what?”

“I wanted you to do it…I mean I want you to do it, so I’m waiting.” Ichabod moved his keyboard to the side and leaned forward placing both elbows upon his desk.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” He breathed.

“Everywhere.” She nearly moaned. Ichabod rested his face against his hand, rubbing his fingers along the corners of his mouth.

“Are you wet?” He asked.

“Why do you ask?” She teased.

“Because you sound as though you are.” He stated imagining her before him. “And further, on the off chance that you are not it is my sole desire to help you become so. For example perhaps by confessing that at this very moment I would surrender years of my life to have your thighs gaped before me, and your sweetness beneath the tip my tongue.” A devilish twinkle spread through his eyes as he listened to her gasp.

“So tell me…are you wet?” He asked again.  

“Sopping.” She quickly replied, her tone both dauntless and endearing to the point his grip upon the phone weakened. Before he could steady his hands it had fallen against his desk and bounced to the floor. In trying to retrieve it Ichabod accidentally hung up. Abbie looked down at her cell assuming the call had dropped, and saw a facetime call from Ichabod a second before it actually rang. It took a moment for her to realize that the awkward feeling she felt was nervousness. When they were in person it was different, she knew just what to do to him and how to touch him to make him feel good. But this was something she’d never done before, and she knew he hadn’t.

“Hi.” Abbie answered. Ichabod swooned as her bright affectionate smile lit up his screen.

“Apple.” He smiled. Just as he suspected, seeing her face only made him want to get into his vehicle and go to her, but if he would have any free time the next day he had to push through the work he had tonight. When he was with her, he never wanted it to be quick, leaving her bed was never easy. It was nearly 11pm and he was sure everyone had gone home, still he slid his chair back in preparation of rising to lock the door. Just before he could stand there was a knock upon Abbie’s door that drew her attention. He couldn’t hear the voice, but she looked into the phone and asked him to hang on a minute. Abbie popped up and slipped into her pajama bottoms and scurried over to the door to find Jeremy on the other side of it. She quickly came back to the phone and informed Ichabod that his son had a nightmare, and she would try to call him back after she helped him get back to sleep. Ichabod couldn’t help but smile at how quickly she’d transitioned from a vivacious sex goddess to responsible caretaker. He on the other hand would have a much more difficult time stifling his desire.       

 

A little over a half hour later, Abbie made good on her promise and called him back. He noticed that she didn’t facetime, and he could tell from the tone of her voice her mood had shifted, and she’d grown tired.  

“How is he?” Ichabod asked.

“He’s okay.” She replied. “Sleeping again, so we’ll see.” She disclosed.

“Did he say what his nightmare was about?”  

“Yeah actually he did.” She said with a quizzical gaze covering her face. “He said in his dream someone was trying to hurt me.” She responded.

“Hurt you?” Ichabod repeated growing concerned. “Did he say who, or why?”

Abbie hesitated a moment before answering. “No. It was just a dream Crane.” She said crawling into bed and tugging up her blankets.  

“Hmm. Thank you again for allowing him to stay over.” He said.

“I love having him.” Abbie reaffirmed.

“Still” Ichabod stated sitting forward. “All that you have taken on with him. Already I carry a certain weight in consideration of all that you are doing for Delton and Jeremy is”

“—My baby,” She cut in. “I love him.” She yawned, half sleep, causing a loose smile to spread across Ichabod’s face. He was going to say not her responsibility, but was beyond pleased with her response.   He loved the way she treated his son, he wasn’t hers but none would have known it by her treatment of him. She made absolutely no distinction between him and Delton, if she took Delton somewhere, she took Jeremy as well, if she bought something for Delton, she bought it for Jeremy as too. It mattered not how small or large it was, she provided for their wellbeing equally.      

“I find comfort in the knowledge that you are watching after him.” Ichabod admitted. “You’re aware he worships you,” He said settling back into his chair and crossing his legs.

“We get along pretty good.” Abbie agreed with a lazy smile.

“Pretty good.” Ichabod smirked. “I believe one day he’ll pen songs in your name.” He joked.

Abbie grinned on the other end of the phone, “That boy is always singing.” She commented. Ichabod could hear the exhaustion in her voice, truthfully if they weren’t on the phone she probably would have been asleep by now. Their conversation continued on, him telling her all about things that had been going on with his company, while she filled him in on some of the cases at work and other things that had been occupying her time. She was thrilled with the way their playful banter had returned, it was the first time things felt normal between them in nearly a month. Their conversation, twisted and warped into sharing funny stories about the kids, which caused them to both start sharing similar stories about their own childhood.   Before long Abbie looked at the clock and realized an entire hour had ticked away.

“This is nice.” She said, half sleep.  

Ichabod squeezed his eyes shut, unable to express how greatly he had missed her company. Moments like this made him call into question everything that he was doing, trying to protect himself by keeping a safe distance. He knew that he could be there with her, on occasion sharing her company and bed, but he also knew he needed more, he needed permanence. He still couldn’t understand her. Why did she not want him there?

“It has been the most pleasant evening I’ve had in many.” He agreed.

“Ichabod.” She said in that little sweet voice that always melted his heart.

“Yes?”

“I love you.” She whispered. Before he met her he never imagined that words could feel so good, but the way she spoke them grabbed a hold of him in ways he couldn’t quite understand.

“I know.” He replies. He could hear her soft breaths coming through the other end of the phone as their conversation grew quiet. He knows she’s drifting to sleep, she’d been edging toward it for at least ten minutes now. He places the call on speaker and listens to the sound of her gentle snoozing as he returns to work.

It only takes a second, one brief moment slips by and Abbie finds herself caught between the sleeping and awakened worlds. That beautiful little space where all of life’s difficult questions are answered with inimitable clarity, and unrivaled assuredness. It was warm there, and even though he wasn’t present she could feel his presence through the phone. Her heart screamed at her to tell him about the baby. Because in less than a month her first trimester would conclude, and he will have missed all of it. Her hormones are at a normal level and the baby seems to be faring well so she hopes the idea of a miscarriage is less probable. Somehow it just seems bigger now, knowing that a part of him had been living inside of her for all of this time, she hated the thought of holding it from him another day. Besides she had a prenatal appointment coming up, as well as her first Lamaze class, and she knew that he would want to be a part of it. A quiet seed of doubt slipped in. He’s at work right now, too busy to come home and see the children he already has, how could this possibly be something he wants to hear. He already feels bad enough that he hasn’t had as much time with the boys. But the truth you can only hear when sitting inside of the space between worlds grabbed her, and she knew she wanted and needed him to come home.

“Ichabod?”

“I’m here my love.” He said stilling his fingers upon his keyboard.

“I have something I need to talk to you about.” She stated. She doesn’t want to tell him on the phone, she can’t in fact. “Can you come

“—Ichabod.” Abbie’s tongue is silenced by the sound of a woman’s voice coming through the phone. She freezes.

“Pardon me one moment Abbie.” Ichabod stated removing her from speaker phone.  

“Miss Noreen.” She hears him say clearly then everything is muffled, but there’s laughter, she definitely, distinctly hears laughter. A woman’s and his. All signs of sleep dissipate, and she’s sitting over the edge of the bed in seconds. She looks toward the clock on her wall seeing it reads 12:45am. Her eyes go cold as she wonders, _Who in the fuck works this late_? She knows he has a new office, and there are people there working, but for some reason she hasn’t imagined any of them to be women, not one, dicks everywhere in her mind, not a vagina in sight. Now she’s panicked because people with vaginas love his raggedy ass. She silently curses herself for not thinking of this before. Every time he’s worked late she’s imagined him alone, or perhaps with Perry or Ethan. Not with a woman. Not with a woman who sounds young, and pretty, and full of energy at 12:45am on a fucking Tuesday. _Who in their right mind sounds young, and pretty and full of energy at 12:45am on a fucking Tuesday anyway?_ Noreen did, _Miss_ Noreen sounded like a large breasted drop dead gorgeous girl in a half top with a stunning smile and witty cynicism. On top of that she sounds like she could go another six hours without a yawn at 12:45am on a Tuesday. And Abbie knows immediately why she does. Because she’s there working with her funny, good-looking, super sexy boss and he probably fucked her on a table earlier in the evening. Abbie used to be that way, she was the girl making love to a funny, good-looking, super sexy co-worker. She used to sound that exact same way on a Tuesday at 12:45am. Now she’s bloated, and gassy in a way that makes her uncomfortable to be in public, her boobs are sore, her jeans won’t button, on top of that she’s exhausted and has been since 8pm. All because she’s taking care of two of her handsome ex co-worker’s children and carrying another one, _WHILE HE’S FUCKING NOREEN ON TABLETOPS!_   

“Abbie?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry something has come up, I have to step away, however what is it that you were saying? What would you like to speak to me about?”

“Nothing. It can wait.”

“Are you certain?” He asked.

“Yeah.” She decides, before she says a bunch of things she might later regret.  “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight then, until the morrow.”  He replied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene where Abbie hears Noreen's voice was heavily inspired by Greys.


	28. Wednesday Night Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello All! Thanks so much for all of the love. Your comments on the last chapter had me cracking up, I love you guys! Here's the other part of that super long chapter. I haven't been able to read very much of anything in a long time, and I think that's why I'm running into trouble with words. So after I update of Holocene, I'll probably take a minute to read a little bit and hopefully come back telling a much faster paced story. Thanks again, and I hope you all enjoy it. Please forgive any errors, the toggling between tenses is crazy, just rampant indecisiveness. I will look at it in a few days, sometimes a little space makes a huge difference for me.

_PartyNextDoor x Drake_

_That ish ain’t my fault girl cause I’m lonely. Name another woman, ain’t no other woman that should come for me when I’m lonely._

 

Abbie stood up from the bed still clutching the phone in her hand. Every part of her wanted to get dressed and drive to his office, but there were a multitude of reasons why she couldn’t. One, the boys were home, and two, there was absolutely no way she could show up there without outing herself as a lunatic. For a moment she contemplated calling him back, but ultimately forced herself to put the phone down.

Twenty minutes later she gave up on sleep and moseyed down the dark steps to the kitchen. After spooning herself up a healthy serving of ice-cream, she sat quietly eating in a little blotch of moonlight covering the table. The sound of the living room door opening brought her to her feet, and her heartbeat grew loud as she ankled toward the entranceway. Maybe he had realized she was upset and come home. She smiled, _I knew I was overreacting, my baby loves me._ Her steps sped up almost to the point of running but her hopes were sunk when she rounded the corner and saw Jenny creeping through the door. The excitement that had just spread through her eyes abated with a heavy puff of disappointment.

“Wow good to see you too.” Jenny teases, before stepping into the kitchen. She flips on the light switch.

“I’m happy to see you.” Abbie states following her in. “I just thought you were closing.” She explains returning to her bowl of ice-cream. “You got out early tonight huh?”

“A long story.” Jenny replies, slipping out of her jacket, and hanging it over the back of her chair.

“What are you doing up anyway?” She asks, taking a juice from the fridge. “Isn’t it like four hours past your bedtime?”  

“Can’t sleep?” Abbie responds, scraping the last bits of sweetness from her bowl. Jenny brows sink in as she glances down at her sister.

“Are you feeling okay?” She asks, growing worried. “What’s up?”

Abbie rolls her spoon around the empty bowl. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

Jenny sat down at the table and shot her sister a skeptical gaze but didn’t push. She looked on as her older sister played with her dish and spoon, lifting it and letting it fall against the bowl over and over.

“Ya gonna get some more?” Jenny asks.

“Hmm.” Abbie inquires lifting from her fog. “More what?”  

“Ice-cream.” Jenny responds. “You sure you’re okay, you don’t seem like it.” She goes on trying to get her to open up. Abbie lifted her spoon and let it fall one final time before gently sliding the bowl away.

“I was on the phone with Ichabod earlier, and I heard a woman’s voice in the background.” Abbie confided.

“So.” Jenny says casually. “Where was he?”

“At work.”

Jenny tisked dismissively. “Well there you have it.”

“—It was 12:45am. I’m pretty sure they were the only ones there.” Abbie adds.

Jenny brows inclined as she looked away.

“What?” Abbie asks, concerns raising.

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t a nothing look, that was a something kind of look, spill it.” She demands.

“It’s nothing really. Except.” Jenny begins. Abbie leans closer to her as she pauses.

“Except what?”

“For the record I’m sure it’s nothing, he’s devoted to you.” Jenny says.

“Oh my God, do you know something?” Abbie asks bringing a hand to her chest. “Did you see something, how could you not tell me right aw-?”

“—No. No, and are you kidding me, like I would find something like that out and not tell you.” Jenny reassured her. “You need to calm down.” She lectured.

“Me? You’re the one sitting here acting like you know something, you just scared the shit out of me.” Abbie reached up massaging her temples while taking a deep breath to collect herself.

“All I was going to say is…” Jenny sighs and considers her words carefully. “I mean Bells, you did put him out, what are you expecting to happen. He’s working all of the time to try to get his company off of the ground—that has to be stressful, and he misses you, so he’s probably lonely. I’m just saying he might be a little vulnerable right now.” Jenny says pushing herself up from the table to fix a bowl of cereal.  

Abbie spun around eyeing her sister. “And I’m not lonely? I don’t work hard? It’s not some kind of a free pass to screw around.” Abbie turned back around and briefly collapsed her face in the nook created by her folded arms. She sat upright as Jenny rejoined the table. “Not that I think he’s screwing around, it’s just…yeah I pushed him away, I let him go freely. But a lot has transpired since then that’s made everything unclear. _He’s_ the one who told _me_ during this period that it was unacceptable for me to see other men, which I have no interest in doing anyway, but the fact that he said it, and then assured me that he had no interest in other women…and then I hear this voice.” Abbie asserted.

“Like I told you I’m sure it’s nothing.” Jenny restated.

“I’m not.” Abbie replied. “How can you be?”  

“We’re talking about Ichabod, he would never purposefully do anything to hurt you, and honestly the only reason I said what I said is because…look I just know what it’s like to feel like you’re in limbo, and I don’t want you to make the mistake of leaving him there too long.

A hint of curiosity sprang up in Abbie’s eyes. “Is there something you want to share?” She asked, forgetting about her problems.

“No, and we are not talking about me right now.”

“You’re my little sister, we’re always talking about you. Did something happen.”

“No.” Jenny replied before taking another bite of cereal. She kept chewing quietly pretending she couldn’t feel Abbie’s disbelieving eyes boring a hole in the side of her face.

“Almost but no.” Jenny elaborated. “When Frank was pulling away, I wasn’t feeling valued. I had picked up a couple of shifts at the bar one night and you know me I completely ignore any attention I receive there, but this guy came along and he was nice, and handsome, and he said all of the right things.”

Abbie’s eyes grew wide. “And what?!”

“And I thought about it, I didn’t do it, but I thought about it.” Jenny admitted.

Abbie shook her head.

“This is why I didn’t mention it, you’re judging me and I didn’t even do anything.” Jenny complained.   “I’m not judging you. Of course I’m glad you didn’t do it, but even if you had, I wouldn’t love you any less, you’re my sister. I’m just thinking that’s all.” Abbie sighed.

“About Crane?”

Abbie nodded her head. It was just weird I was right in the middle of asking him to come home tonight when—”

“—What? Really?!” Jenny asks, surprised. “Wait, when did you decide this?” She questions.

“Just tonight,” Abbie answered. “I mean I’ve been thinking about it and wanting it for a while I just…I was scared I guess. But right when I started to ask him I heard this voice, this woman, and my gut just sounded this alarm, like I heard it for a reason or something, I don’t know.” She concluded.  

Jenny finished up her bite of food and peered over at her sister. “Hey say the word and we’ll ride out there right now,” She offered, “But I don’t think we’re going to find anything.”

“Thanks.” Abbie said, as she reached over to squeeze her hand. “We can’t though. Even if we had a sitter.” She reasoned.

“So talk to him about it in the morning when he comes to pick up D.”

“He can’t pick them up tomorrow remember, he has a 7:30am meeting, and I have a hair appointment _before_ the crack of dawn which is why I asked you to drop off D in the morning. Oh yeah actually it will be Jeremy as well by the way.”

“Oh. Wait a minute I thought Katrina was coming to get him?” Jenny asked, pausing from her mini wheats.

“She didn’t.”

“Damn, must be nice.” Jenny smirked.

“Don’t Jenny.” Abbie said eyeing her.

“I’m just saying, I don’t want to hear shit if I ever need a babysitter because you have her kid more than she does.” Jenny declared. “Like she doesn’t even have a job, what is she doing that she can’t watch him?”

Abbie looked over at her sister. “You know I like having him here.”

“So do I he’s a great kid, but I don’t want to see you getting taken advantage of.”

“He’s Ichabod’s. He’s D’s brother, he was Grace’s, so he’s mine too. He’s ours too.” Abbie reminded her. “It’s already been a long day Jen, I don’t want to fight.”

“Me either.” Jenny shook her head. “And long doesn’t begin to describe the day I had.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Abbie asked sensing something was bothering her.

“Ahh, nothin’. Typical bullcrap. I got fired, and went to jail.”

“What?!” Abbie says nearly jumping out of her seat. She started to ask how in the hell that was typical, but then she remembered who she was talking to.

“What happened?”

“It wasn’t my fault.” Jenny said. “I was waiting tables and this guy was being horrible to his girlfriend. She had what looked like a few bruises that had healed on her face, fresh ones on her arm, and I just knew.” Jenny stated in disgust.

“Whoa.”

“Yeah, he ordered a drink with his meal, and she tried to order one, but he told her no, and spouted off some nonsense about women shouldn’t drink because it’s unladylike. She asked him again and there was this look he gave her, like.” Jenny shook her head. “I could tell she was afraid.”

“So then what happened?” Abbie asked enthralled.

“So when I brought them their drinks, I brought her the drink she originally wanted on the house. And he told her right in front of me that she better not take one fucking sip. He made her give to him. So I took it, threw it in his face, he stood up and came at me so I hit him with a four piece and sat his ass back down.”

“Wow.” Abbie exhaled.

“And then they arrested me.” She half sang. “Frank is nooooot happy. But on the bright side the guy isn’t cooperating with the police because he doesn’t want to admit that he got his ass whooped by a girl, so the department isn’t pursing it.”

Abbie smiled, and gave her sister a hug. “I love you Jenny, and yeah your day makes mine seem all kinds of unremarkable. You always did try to stick up for others.”

“Wonder where I learned that.” Jenny stated grinning at Abbie. “That poor girl.” Abbie sympathized. “It’s sad. I was just going over a case where this girl left work one day, and no one ever saw her again. She just vanished, gone. There was a guy who came up in one of her files, and something was super eerie there. I mean he was just this guy she worked with, but there are these photos of her—two of them in particular, and he’s in the background staring at her with the most sinister expression I’ve ever seen in my life. My gut tells me that he’s responsible for whatever happened to her.”

“Man. Is there anything that can be done?” Jenny asked. Abbie sat up straight and sighed.

“Don’t tell Frank.” She stated. “I narrowed down his address and drove to the city one day to try to track him down.”

“Abbie!” Jenny exclaimed.

“I wasn’t going to do anything, I just wanted to see him. You know, to follow him for a little while and see if this feeling went away, or got stronger.”

“So what happened?” Jenny asked pinning her elbows to the table and resting her head in her hands.

“It got stronger. So I’m kind of trying to assemble as much intel on him as possible, and hopefully I can present a case strong enough to warrant going after him. But I feel like every minute that goes by is another opportunity for him to hurt someone else. I just don’t have enough yet.”

“I hope you get him, but be careful, and don’t go back to the city.” Jenny warned. “At least not without me.”

“I know.” Abbie acknowledged. “Even if we do go after him, so much time has passed, and even in fresh investigations there’s only so much the police can legally do. That’s the problem with all of these cold cases.

“Too bad the family didn’t have someone like you on the case way back when. Might have been a different outcome.” Jenny mused. A quizzical glare spread across her face as she stared off into space.

“Abbie!” She yelled sitting up straight. “That’s it!

“What’s it?” Abbie asked lost to her meaning.

“What if the families _did_ have someone like you or me right from the get-go.   You know someone who could work things from their end, who could be an advocate for them.” She reasoned. “Someone who didn’t have all of the legal restraints that you have now?”

A wary gaze etched over Abbie’s face as she side-eyed her sister.

“C’mon I know how bummed you’ve been about not joining the FBI. You didn’t want to be away from D, and now you have the baby on the way.” Jenny reminded her. Abbie raised her palm patting an itch beneath her headscarf.

“Lots of women have families and careers in the FBI, it’s still very attainable Jenny it’s just not something I’m comfortable pursuing right now.”

Jenny flattened her palms against the table and eagerly rambled on. “I know, so in the meantime…you said it yourself you want more.”

“And more is.” Abbie asked already turning over an inkling about where she was going with this.

“We should team up and open our own private investigative agency.”   Jenny declared.

Abbie slumped against the table laughing, drawing her sister’s ire.

“What?!” Jenny asked growing annoyed. “It could work, and you said it yourself, you want a change.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the idea,” Abbie admitted, “But it takes money to start a company, and my cash flow ain’t what it used to be.” Abbie could see the disappointment strewn across her sister’s face. She knew that she had been searching for something to dedicate her life to since the war ended.

“Look.” She stated placing a hand upon Jenny’s shoulder. “I just don’t have it. We could try to save and work toward it, but it isn’t going to happen overnight. New businesses need a certain amount of cash on hand to sustain them during the beginning, in case clientele is low or completely lacking.” Abbie pointed out.

She leaned back in her seat staring at the woman across from her. It hurt to see her this way, searching for something to belong to, a place to fit in. It wasn’t long before she started feeling guilty about everything Jenny had to contend with growing up. The space she was in now, searching and trying to find herself was something most people did during adolescence, but she was robbed of hers.  

“Jen I am two months away from check to checking it, and I have a son. Someone who depends on me to take care of him. Granted his father is…” _on his shit,_ she silently thought, “his father,” she decided to say instead, “but I need to be able to take care of him myself, I need that.”

Abbie momentarily flashed back to clicking open her mortgage statement and finding her loan had been paid off. Seeing Jenny’s desperation caused her to briefly consider allowing the payment to stand, but she quickly purged the thought from her mind. She didn’t like the way it made her feel, like she couldn’t do it on her own, like he somehow sensed she was out of her comfort zone financially. She spent the next few moments bringing Jenny up to speed on Ichabod’s unrequested assistance. Her finger tugged at her bottom lip while she contemplated things.

“But I asked him to reverse the payment because it just felt…it feels wrong.” Abbie cringed.

“Are you kidding me? Bells!” Jenny’s hands briefly raised to her cheeks in conveyance of her shock. “Look I get what you’re saying, you need to be self-sufficient but his kid lives here too. Technically, both of them.” She quipped.  

“I know.” Abbie conceded falling into thought. “Listen,” She said shaking away her musings, “Aside from that I might have an idea.”

Jenny’s brow inched upward.

“Both of us are heavily trained in self-defense. Certified in close quarter and hand to hand combat, and while I wouldn’t go so far as to call us experts,” Abbie smiled, “There are worse instructors.   What if we offer free classes maybe twice a month or even once a week, and received some type of non-profit funding?” She theorized. “Then what if we used those funds to offer assistance to people whose love ones are missing, but they aren’t receiving enough help from the police. Investigative work can get expensive, a fair amount of people can’t afford it, but sometimes it really helps to have a person devoted to your case, and your case alone you know what I mean. And, I know I’ve said it before but you are one of the best trackers I’ve ever known, you can find anyone.” “And _you’re_ the best profiler _I’ve_ ever known.” Jenny responded. “You can give us a clear make up of not only the criminal, and their tendencies, but the victims as well. We’re the perfect team.” Jenny professed.

“We could do a lot of good.” Abbie said after a moment. “Listen to us, dreaming out loud.” She laughed. She glanced over at Jenny who looked like she had stars bursting from her eyes awaiting her decision.

“Give me a week or so to mull it over and let’s revisit the idea then.” Abbie concluded.

Jenny’s arms circled around her before she could even finish speaking. Abbie couldn’t keep from laughing finding happiness in her little sister’s barely contained excitement. Whenever she got this way Abbie had a hard time not picturing her as the little five year old who was like her second shadow.

“Okay, okay.” She said trying to break free for air.

“Oh no did I squeeze to tight?” Jenny worried as she released her.

“Huh?” Abbie questioned before realizing she was talking about the baby. “Oh no, I’m okay.”

“Whew, good. I had like a momentary lapse and almost forgot.” Jenny said. There was a slight pause in the conversation and Abbie immediately recognized the look her sister tried to disguise. It was the face she made when she wanted to say something to her about informing Ichabod of her pregnancy. They had discussed it enough times for her to hear the words coming from a mile away.

“Jenny.” Abbie warned preemptively.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” She stated defensively.

“Mm-hmm.” Abbie hummed through closed lips. Jenny lasted a whole three seconds before she broke her silence.

“So are you going to extend your medical insurance or have Crane add you to his, you know, when we go into business together. When are you putting in your notice by the way?”

“Whoa, that is the literal definition of putting twenty on ten. I said let me _think_ about it, that means process my thoughts, do some research, crunch some numbers, Jenny this is a major life change.” Abbie stressed.   “Not to mention I’m going to need time off. Even if we decide to go ahead with things maybe the smart thing to do is save up and postpone this little undertaking until after the baby’s born.”          

Oh my gosh!” Jenny gasped, eyes lighting up.

“What?” Abbie asked confounded, twisting her head to follow her sister’s gaze behind her. She turned back around. “Hello, earth to Jenny.” She waved a hand in front of her sister’s face noticing that she didn’t seem to be listening. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Oh my gosh-oh my gosh.” Jenny said leaping to her feet. “I almost forgot! How did I forget?!” She jumped up and ran over to the counter.

“Forget what?”   Abbie asked looking on as her sister came racing over cradling the petty cash jar in her hands.

“I heard you, but I forgot to tell you about something. Soooo knowing my brother-in-law you have no freaking chance of him undoing that payment so there’s some extra income there, plus I have a little, and there’s this.” She said turning the jar over. Abbie gawked in astonishment as the pile of bills fell to the table.

“Jenny! What the hell? Where did all of this come from?” She asked immediately worrying it was ill gotten gains.

“I’ll give you one guess.” Jenny smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day Abbie nearly fell out of her bed at the sound of her alarm clock. After talking to Jenny she lay in bed thinking about Ichabod until the heavens took pity on her, and allowed her some sleep. She had vague memories of the alarm sounding a few times before but she didn’t realize how many times she’d hit snooze until she saw the hour.

“Shit!” She gasped jumping out of bed. Her stylist had a habit of scheduling braids and twist hours before the shop actually opened, and she needed a miracle to make it on time. She silently cursed herself for not getting out of bed last night and pulling together an outfit the moment it dawned on her that Ichabod’s office wasn’t too far off from the salon. She hastily searched her closet, grasping at tops and bottoms in search of something that paired nicely. She tossed her selections into a bag deciding it would probably be easier to change clothes after her hair was finished than to get dressed now. After washing up, and slipping into tights and a tee she stood in the living room mentally walking through everything one final time before leaving the house. The boys’ clothes were ironed and laid out, their lunches were packed, and she’d left their field trip money in an envelope on the table. Even though everything seemed to be together, she couldn’t help but go through it one more time to double check.

Abbie pulled into the salon five minutes late. The parking lot was empty, save Sharia’s car. She hoped she hadn’t been waiting there too long.  

“Hey Lady!” Sharia beamed as she approached.

“Hi, Ria!” Abbie smiled pulling the tall slender woman in for a hug. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Girl please, I just got here about two minutes before you.” She said, making Abbie feel a little less guilty.  

Abbie sat down in Sharia’s chair looking around the neatly kept shop. Rows of black stations and chairs overlay the tawny flooring. The two women engaged in light conversation while she worked on her hair. Abbie mostly listening as Sharia filled her in on some of the developments in her life since they’d last been in contact. Three hours had passed by the time another hairstylist showed up.

“Hey Derek.” Abbie called to the tall caramel skinned man just after he entered. Derek was Abbie’s regular hairstylist. If someone wanted to grow and strengthen their natural, or get any kind of a sew in, he was the man to see. He kept her natural hair healthy and vibrant, but she hadn’t had the time for her regular appointments in a while. Sharia on the other hand had done some of the prettiest braids and twist that Abbie had ever seen.  

“Hey Abbie, haven’t seen you in a minute.” Derek said sitting his keys down.

“I know.” Abbie agreed.

“I’m not kidding girl it seems like it’s been eight thousand years since the last time I saw you. Honey you ain’t been in to get your ends cut, or nothin’, where you been?” He asked curiously.

“Just, you know work and home.” Abbie supplied.

“Okay.” He more sang than said, as he started setting up his station. “You got a man?” He asked, probing.

“Something like that.” She replied.

“That’s where your ass been.” Derek stated, laughing. “This has to be some man to have your super perfectionist tail missing your trims.”

“Derek!” Abbie laughed. “Why you on me like that?”

“Mm-hmm, and she was a little late this morning.” Sharia chimed in.

“What, Miss I only want to be your first head of the day because I don’t have time to waste was late?” Derek teased, sending both women into laughter. Abbie remembered the exact day she told Derek that. She and Ichabod were only friends, but he’d called her phone three times in the four and a half hours she was away getting her hair done. She could still recall the message that he’d left, the one the made her smile harder than she had all week, and snap out on Derek for overscheduling.

“Miss Mills. The time for which you stated you would return has come and gone two times over. We have missed the matinee showing for our planned cinematic outing, and I am beginning to grow concerned. Please call and assure me that all is well. I remain, as always hopeful to be regarded among your dearest of friends, Ichabod Crane.”    

Derek had gained in popularity and getting into his chair was becoming a job in and of itself. Had she paid proper attention she would have realized her growing feelings for Ichabod way back then. She didn’t have a lot of extra time, and the bits and scraps of free time she found she wanted to spend with him, not sitting in a salon.

“I only missed like three trims,” Abbie contended. Derek’s sideward glance called bullshit. “Maybe four.” She waffled.

 

“I’m just saying, damn. That’s some I had to cancel my hair appointment dick,” He teased. Derek grabbed the ends of his dreads and pretended to be Abbie cutting her own hair while he mimicked her voice. “I’ma just trim my ends myself, and put this avocado deep conditioner in.”

Abbie and Sharia were almost in tears listening to him. He was always so funny because everything he said had a bit of truth.

“I can’t be mad at it girl.” He smiled.

Abbie looked over at Derek, and could tell he seemed a little down even though he was cracking jokes.

“How’s everything been with you? Are you still working on your hair product line?”

“I sure am it’s coming along, slowly but surely.” He informed her.

“That’s fantastic, well you know I’m in, I want two of everything.” Abbie attested. Derek’s phone went off for the third time since he’d entered the shop, and he finally picked it up in aggravation.

“What part of stop calling don’t you get? I said I would speak to you about it later. I’m at work, stop calling me.” He complained. Abbie and Sharia exchanged strange glances through the mirror.

“Trouble in paradise?” Sharia asked when he hung up.

“If it was ever paradise I might be willing to overlook some of the ridiculous shit he does, but it’s never been close to paradise. I don’t even know what Los is thinking half of the time.”

“Los?” Abbie said surprised. The last time they spoke he was dating a guy name Mike. “What happened to Mike?” She asked.

“Los.” Sharia smiled, taking on a dreamy expression.

“Now you know my fine ass can’t hardly keep these dudes off of me.” Derek kidded. “Mike got really lazy, and complacent, it just fizzled. Mike happened to Mike. But this guy,” Derek shook his head and sighed.

“We just click. But…I’ve spent a long time learning how to look in the mirror and love and accept the person that stares back at me. He isn’t there, and I don’t know that I have time to wait for him to get there. It’s like we’re in two different places.”

“Aw Derek.” Abbie said, feeling for him. “I hope it turns out for you.”

“Now look at you looking all sad. Remember what I told you before, stay away from misery, that shit is contagious.” He laughed. “You know what, I got something for you though, Miss. I’m too busy to get my hair done.” He stated. Derek went to the stereo system and turned on _The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill._ He started off with _Nothing Even Matters_ , in honor of Abbie finding something worthy enough of neglecting her ends.

Abbie sat chatting with the two of them, telling them a few loose details of her life, just enough to satisfy their curiosity, but nothing in depth. The minutes bled into hours and before long the shop started filling up and coming to life. Stylist and clients started arriving one after another until soon every booth was full, as well as the chairs in the waiting area.  

Sharia spun Abbie’s chair around, and stood beside her bearing a proud smile.

“And here you go.” She smiled handing Abbie a mirror so she could inspect various angles of her hair. A smile spread all the way to Abbie’s eyes as she inspected her box braids.

“Sharia.” She sang, ecstatic with how great her hair turned out. “Wow! I love it.” Abbie stated standing up, twisting to see how the hair looked from behind. A small trace of panic rippled through her as she took her fingers through the waist length braids. For some reason she hadn’t gotten a full appreciation of how long they were until she stood up, but this was the precise length she’d asked for. Still seeing her hair actually complete, having the braids become a real thing instead of simply an idea was a little jarring.  

“They’re perfect, I’ve said it before, you’ve got the magic touch.” She beamed.

“Aww thanks sis, I’m glad you like em’.” Sharia said smoothing them over with her fingers.

Abbie was flat out amazed, she couldn’t believe how quickly Sharia had gotten them done especially considering their small size, and how plentiful they were in number.  

Sharia sat her back down, and went over maintenance, and various ways in which she could style the hair.   Abbie decided to wear them down with a part just to the side of the middle of her head.   After paying she ran out to her car and grabbed her bag so she could change out of her sweats and t-shirt before visiting Ichabod. It was nearly noon, and she needed to get a move on.      

When Abbie came back inside with her bag, Keisha, one of the salon’s longstanding stylist, and also one of the craziest people Abbie had ever met had arrived. She had one of the sweetest hearts, which was good because she said whatever the hell came to her mind. Months ago she had spotted Abbie while she was grocery shopping with Ichabod.

“Who are you?” She had asked him, seeming almost irritated by this stranger who’d just walked up as she was talking to Abbie. Ichabod of course was smiling like a new fool when he introduced himself as Abbie’s husband.

“WHO HUSBAND?!” She’d screamed right in the middle of the frozen food section. Abbie had wanted to die.

“Hey Abbie.” Keisha smiled.

“Hi Keisha.” Abbie laughed still remembering her reaction.

“You look so pretty girl, Sharia has you all the way right, but you always look cute.” Keisha stated.

“Don’t she look pretty,” Derek spoke up. “She’s glowing, I noticed that earlier.” He commented sectioning off his clients hair. “Do you have a new skin care regimen or something?” He asked.

“You pregnant?” Keisha, blurted out taking pause from a braid. Abbie’s eyes flashed wide with disbelief, but honestly she didn’t know how anything Keisha said managed to surprise her anymore. There had to have been a minimum of eight different ongoing conversations, but suddenly everyone in the room was fixated on just this one. Abbie gathered herself and plastered a gracious grin across her face. Her fingers tightened around her bag as she slowly shook her head in dismay.    

She looked at Sharia and nodded her head in the direction of the bathroom. “Still ok if I use the restroom before shoving off.”

“Of course.” Sharia replied, “You remember to the right.”

Abbie walked toward the bathroom trying to ignore the quiet discussion going on behind her. She could only make out a few words but they were enough to let her know that she was the topic of conversation. Just as she was rounding the corner to the restroom she spun around to find Derrick and Keisha talking in nodding in her direction.

“Aye.” She half hollered. Y’all could at least wait until I’m in the bathroom to talk about me.” She griped. The pair fell into laughter realizing they’d been caught. Abbie playfully narrowed her eyes at them before continuing on her path.

“Mmph, mhp, mhp, you two have no home training whatsoever.” She overheard Sharia telling them as she entered the restroom.

Abbie could have gone back home to change but it seemed so much easier this way. As it stood the salon was just minutes from Ichabod’s office, and it made no sense to go all the way to Sleepy Hollow just to come all the way back. Besides this way when she told him she was in the neighborhood it wouldn’t be an outright lie. Abbie checked her outfit in the mirror. On top she wore a sheer covered cream tank blouse, the v-neck exposed the perfect amount of cleavage, sexy, but still daytime appropriate. On bottom, she wore a black high waisted pencil skirt that clung to her in a way that caused her to question whether her hips had already spread. She was certain that the book she’d been reading stated that didn’t typically occur until twelve weeks, but the more she studied herself in the mirror the clearer it became that they already had. She slipped into her black heels, applied her makeup, and started out of the door.

The cat calls started up as soon as she re-entered the room, she couldn’t help but laugh at how silly they all were.

“Honnn-neeeeey!!! Derek yelled, looking up from his clients head. “You must be gettin’ ready to _pull up_ on somebody looking like that. Let me find out Abbie got a little bit of me in her.” He laughed.      

“I have to meet this one Abbie. I need to know exactly who has you showing out. So drop a name, something, who are you about to pull up on?” He asked.  

“It better be that fine butt husband of yours because baby listen, if you don’t I will.” Keisha chimed in.

“HUSBAND!” Derek and Sharia, both called out surprised. Earlier Abbie’s long sleeved t-shirt was covering her fingers and they hadn’t seen her ring.

“I asked if you had a man, you said something like that. Look at that big ole ring on your finger!” He exclaimed! “When is a marriage something like that, it’s exactly that!”

Abbie started to speak but Keisha overtalked her. “I met him, Abbie didn’t tell you guys she was married? Wait a minute _I_ didn’t tell you guys she was married.”

Abbie smiled. Keisha was loud and crazy, but she was the type of person who brought things up right in front of you as opposed to behind your back. Abbie always like that about her.

“Well listen, _he is fine_! And I mean _fine_!   Y’all know me, I don’t really too much…” Keisha stops, and rephrases, trying not to offend anyone. “You know to each his own I respect every ones freedom to love and be loved by whom they please, you know love has no color, or boundary, but I loooove my chocolate, you know what I mean.” She stated to a roar of laughter and applause.

“But girl Abbie’s husband had a chick thinking about broadening her horizons. I might have to give this _Something New_ shit a shot!” She howled. “Ooh excuse my language Ms. Arlene, I almost forgot you were in here,” she said to an older woman getting her hair done in the booth across from her.

The older woman smiled and waved her off. “I’m alright.”

“But seriously,” Keisha continued. “He’s handsome, and such a gentlemen.” She gushed. Abbie almost rolled her eyes remembering how Ichabod had turned on the charm in front of Keisha. He literally bowed and told her what a “profound pleasure it was making her acquaintance,” when they parted ways.

“I mean, he was dreamy.   Where’d you say the two of you met again?” She asked.

“Work.” Abbie replied.  

“Listen y’all, Abbie so dang on secretive. “Work.” She repeated mimicking her dry tone. Abbie laughed at Keisha’s spot on imitation.

“What,” Abbie half groaned, “That’s where we met.”

“Well does he have a brother?” She queries stopping the comb in her clients head. “Only thing is he looked a little thin though, and I might break him cause baby,” She twirled her hips, “You know these hips ain’t for no games.” She joked, causing everyone to laugh.

Sharia quickly reached over and slapped Keisha’s hips. “You need to give me some of those.”

“You’re a mess, Keish.” Abbie laughed.

“What?!” Keisha laughed, looking over at Abbie. “Come to think of it you look like _you_ put on a couple pounds. Hmm.” She glanced over at Derek, “Yeah you’re definitely filling out some.”

“Keish has a point Abbie. You’ve always had a little meat on them hips and thighs, but girl you busting out of that skirt. I mean it looks like it’s holding on for dear life,” Derek teased. “It looks good on you though.” He added.

“In love and eating good.” Keisha smiled.

“That ain’t the only thing she’s been doing.” Derek chimed in.

Abbie’s eyes went wide. “Derek why? What did I do?” She smiled.

Keisha stilled the comb in her clients had and called Abbie over. “Pss, pss, pss. Question. He got a big thang?” Abbie’s mouth fell open. Keisha was not only crazy but she also had the distinction of being the world’s loudest whisperer.

“Look I need to know if the myth about white men not being well endowed is just a myth, or if there’s some basis to that shit.” She tried again to whisper, and failed miserably. It was apparent that everyone in the immediate vicinity heard when Abbie saw a dozen eyeballs fixed to her awaiting the answer. She was at a loss of words.    

“Will you leave my client alone?” Sharia cut in causing the two of them to start playfully bickering back and forth.  

Abbie quickly slipped away and collected her things.

“Thanks again Sharia.” She said putting her shades on and pulling her keys from her purse. “Alright all, have a great day.” She waved. She popped Keisha on the side as she walked by her station.

“It’s a myth.” She answered. “But you know individuals are individuals.” She said in a quiet voice.

“Okay, I follow, I follow, so based on your individual…”

Abbie lowered her shades. “It’s a myth.”

“Talk inches.”

“By Keisha.” Abbie smiled, flipping her shades back up.

Keisha laughed. “Alright Abbie, you be safe out there.” She heard her call after.

  

 

* * *

 

Abraham called just a few minutes after Abbie left the salon. Her Bluetooth kicked on, and she leaned forward to turn up her speaker volume to hear him better.

“Hey Abraham.” She chirped, happy to hear from him. Abraham pulled the bouquet of flowers he was sniffing away from his nose, and placed them back into his shopping cart.

“I tried to reach you this morning. Then I remembered you were having your hair changed today.”

Abbie tittered recalling how he tried to talk her out of it when she first spoke about getting her hair done. He’d looked over her shoulder as some of the styles she’d pulled up on her phone.

“I rather fancy your hair the way that it normally is.” He stated going through the self-checkout.

“I heard you the first time you said that, and I _fahn-cy_ my hair too Abraham,” She said mockingly, “That’s why I’ve chosen to protect it from myself right now.”

Abraham loaded up the car Murray had loaned him and closed the trunk. He placed Abbie on speaker phone and set the phone in the cup holder.

Abbie was sure she heard a car beeping as if it was starting up.

“What’s that noise?” She asked.

“What noise?”

“The noise that sounds like someone just started a car.” Abbie stated.

“I know you’re not driving again.” She warned.

“Of course not. You told me that the next time that you found me behind the wheel without proper education and licensing you were going to and I quote, throw my ass in jail. So no, I’m not driving. Listen I’m just leaving the store, and..”

“—What?” Abbie exclaimed. Abraham sighed at his own ignorance.

“Rather Murray and I are just leaving the store, and I have with me French bread, Italian wine, and a few of the loveliest cuts of beef that I have ever seen. Join me, we’ll eat, I’ll drink, and I’ve even stopped by the library using the card you loaned me and checked out Game of Thrones.” He revealed. “We could finish off the season.”

Little did he know that Abbie had finished off the season, and half of the second one the day after they had first watched it.  

“Aww Bram. Today is”

“—Your day off,” He cut in. “And Ichabod’s day with the children so I refuse to take no for an answer.”

“It sounds like fun, but I have to pass.” Abbie remarked. The silence on the other end caused her to feel a little guilty because she knew he didn’t have many friends. He needed to get out more, but as of late he’d been reluctant to do so, she worried that he spent too much time alone.

“I’m actually headed to Ichabod’s office right now. We talked last night and I’m hoping that we can talk more today. I would love to do dinner some other time though, who knows maybe all of us can.”

“All of whom?”

“You know, me, you…Ichabod.” Abbie frowned at the laughter coming through the other side of the phone.

“You know what, forget it.” She sneered, upset at how funny he found her statement.

“I know that you love him,” Abraham responded, “But I have known Ichabod a very long time, and I shall sooner starve before I break bread with him.”

“Abraham.”

“—Please be careful.” He interrupted before she had a chance to speak. “I know that you miss him but…but you see I have grown quite fond of you. I do not wish to see you hurt. Ichabod Crane is a difficult person to know, take it from someone that has trusted him once before.”

He listened to her sigh on the other end of the phone, and felt a little guilty for telling her all of these things, but it was for her own good, he reasoned.

“He’s my husband Abraham, I know him.” She said finally.

“There was a time when I thought him a brother, and I thought I knew him as well.” He granted. “Listen I hope it all goes favorably for you, especially in consideration of your situation.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Abbie laughed. “A situation.”

“I beg your pardon, in consideration of the little one.” He rephrased. “However, if it does not…know that my invitation stands.”

A shrill shriek bleeds through the phone, and Abbie hears the sound of someone laying on their horn.  

“YOU LUBBERWORT! DEWBEATER! HAVE YOU NO EYES!” Abraham screams abruptly.

“Hel-lo.” Abbie says.

“Miss Mills, I simply cannot comprehend the nerve of some people, this maniac swerved directly in front of my whilst I was traversing the lane”

“—Abraham you promised!” Abbie scolded in disbelief.

“I meant Murray, a maniac just swerved in front of Murray, because he’s the one who’s driving.” He stammered.

“Oh yeah, let me speak to him.” Abbie demanded.

“What? Now? Miss Mills that hardly seems safe, how is he to converse and simultaneously operate a motor vehicle?”

“The same way you are.” Abbie snapped.

“Oh no! My connection, it’s dropping. Can you…CAN YOU HEAR ME?!” He shouted.

“Yes.” Abbie replied even toned.

“MISS ills, CAN OU ear ME.” Abraham yelled, dropping a letter from every other word.

“I know you’re lying Abraham.” Abbie glanced at the speaker as if she could somehow see him in the act of lying.  

“TAKE CARE AND HAVE A SPLENDID DAY IF YOU CAN HEAR ME.” He screamed for effect.

The line went dead. Abbie rolled her eyes and pressed the button to reload her navigation menu. She pushed the button to roll down the front windows a few inches, sighing with delight as the soft air circulated throughout the cabin. The closer she got to Ichabod’s office, the more the butterflies inhabiting her stomach jumped and fluttered about. She had just assumed her visit would be well received when she thought of it this morning. Now that she was near she began to worry that perhaps it wouldn’t. Maybe he would be too busy to see her, he _was_ working after all and the last thing she wanted to do was disturb anyone at work. Maybe her showing up uninvited would be more of an intrusion than the pleasant surprise she hoped it would be. She drove right by his office parking lot following a sign she’d seen for a nursery down the road. After a few minutes of perusing she selected a plant, and then stopped once again at a bakery she’d passed on the way to the nursery. She purchased a few slices of pie before traveling the short distance back to his office. By the time she reached the parking lot the silent argument inside of her head was still ongoing. She almost managed to talk herself out of going inside, but luckily she came to her senses and shut off the engine.

 

* * *

 

Abbie threw her purse over her shoulder, and walked around to the passenger side to grab the plant she’d bought, along with the bag from the bakery.  Her heels clicked against the pavement as she took long confident strides from the parking ramp to the tall storied building. It somehow wasn’t what she expected when she got off the elevator to his company’s floor. Her eyes darted around as she took in the large space. His tastes had always been more earthy and natural. But the very modern, clinical setting she found herself in was anything but. Still, she was impressed by the upscale design, and even though his new venture had yet to be ruled a success, it certainly gave off the appearance of such.

Abbie approached the receptionist desk. She stood a few paces back seeing that the young lady behind the desk was in the middle of assisting someone on the phone. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a low bun, and Abbie couldn’t help but notice how nicely her red framed glasses complimented her gray pant suit. There was a low steady working hum carrying across the office. The space is bright, and alive, and Abbie can’t decide if it’s due to the freshly painted white walls, or the sun beaming through the windows across the room.

“Hello welcome to Cranium Enterprises how can I help you today?”

“Hello.” Abbie says returning her warm smile. “I’m here to see Ichabod Crane, I love your glasses by the way, super cute.”

“Oh thanks, I was a little worried I would get tired of the color but, I really like them. Okay.” She said typing something into her computer. “I’m sorry is Mr. Crane expecting you?” She asked.

“No. But I really just need a moment.” Abbie said.

“He’s in a meeting right now, but I can see what he has available as soon as it’s over. Who should I tell him is waiting?

“Abbie.” She states. There’s a brief moment where it seemed that Danielle wanted her to say more, but it passed, and Abbie didn’t bother offering.

“Okay, well his meeting should be wrapping up briefly, you can have a seat in the waiting area to your right, and someone will be right with you.” She states, pointing toward a row of seats.

She’d only been seated a few minutes when a gentleman ambled over to the area and started filling up a cup at the water dispenser.

“Hello.” A low, smooth voice upturned her eyes. He’s handsome, neatly cut hair, deep brown skin, and a little devilish twinkle in his eyes.

“Afternoon.” A polite smile curled Abbie’s lips. He nods his head toward the large window beside them.

“This weather is all Dr. Jekyll, and Mr. Hyde today.” He smiled, offering his hand. “Danny. I’m with the legal department,” he stated, motioning towards the hall where his office is held.  

“Abbie.” She offered, shaking his hand.  

“Funny calling it a department as of yet it’s me and one other attorney, but you have to start somewhere right. So you must be” he holds up a finger, “Wait, don’t tell me.” He tapped his finger to his temple. “You’re here to interview for the new head of security position.”

Abbie started to correct him, but found herself distracted, curious as to what he’s based these assumptions off of. “So security what makes you say that?”

Danny smiled, assuming he’s read her correctly. “Your posture when you walked in, very powerful stance. Then when you sat down, instead of focusing on your phone or fiddling with your possessions, you linked your fingers in your lap, which is a position of power, and methodically scanned this entire room. Plus you’re carrying a peace lily, so I assume that’s the plant you’ve selected for your new office wherein you will strive to keep the peace.”

“Incisive observation,” she states. “But”

“—Look” he stated seeing Ichabod exiting his office. “Let me give you a few tips.” Two main higher-up’s here, Perry Chamber’s and Ichabod Crane.   Perry is laid back, very easy to work with, but at times he lacks direction making him a bit more difficult to work for. Then there’s Ichabod Crane. He is the principle owner, CEO, and between me and you, he’s a little bit of a dick, but he’s not impossible. He’s the inversion of Perry, he’s very decisive, clear and direct, so he’s easy to work for. Just do what he says and he’s happy. Working with him is a little more difficult because he thinks he knows everything, and don’t get me wrong he’s a smart guy, but he even tells us how to do our job, like he has a law degree.”

Abbie brows raise, a small smile touched her lips as she nodded along. Danny realized he was ranting a bit and dialed it down.

“Sorry,” He chuckled. Abbie overlooked it already aware how Ichabod can get under someone’s skin.

“He’s big on education, he used to be a professor or something, which is probably part of the reason the he thinks he knows everything. But if you express any interest in education, history in particular, you’ll score points with him. He’s very proper, sir, ma’am, miss, he uses all of those, all the time.”

“Look there he is right there.” Danny says, causing Abbie to turn around just in time to spot Ichabod exiting his office with a leggy brunette. She’s looks on wondering if this woman is the owner of the voice she heard last night. He doesn’t look like someone who’s slept at the office the previous night.   He’s wearing a light grey suit, and a light purple tie she recognizes as one she’d purchased him. They’re standing closer than she likes, but she’s more bothered by the fact that they seem to be discussing something secret, something that everyone else around isn’t privy to. Abbie watches as the woman drops one of the folders she’s carrying and as Ichabod bends to retrieve it, she lays a hand on his shoulder as if to say _oh I can get it myself_ , only she doesn’t attempt to. She stands there, and when he’s looking down gathering papers, her face exposes her infatuation with him. He says something and she laughs, a little too hard and long, he doesn’t quite laugh, but a small grin finds his lips.

Suddenly Abbie wishes she hadn’t come. _This is toxic, I should leave,_ she reasons. Being here and seeing all of this…she isn’t a part of this new life he has, and she can’t help but feel out of place. The handsome man next to her is still speaking but she can only hear every other word he says, as her attention’s focused on Ichabod. Something about getting lunch together, and him showing her around falls out of his mouth, and she starts to grow irritated with him for distracting her from the conversation she’s watching but stands too far away to hear.   Perhaps it’s nothing, she lunched with Abraham at the diner all of the time, and some days they laughed constantly, yet it was nothing romantic, just innocent amusement between friends. But there is something here that seems different, that seems to give off an impression of acquaintance that she’s not certain she’s comfortable with. Her eyes follow the woman’s fingers as they wrap around Ichabod’s arm and give it a squeeze. She’s giggling so much her cheeks grow red, holding onto him like she can’t hold herself up because he’s sooo funny. Abbie’s head twist with suspicion, just as Ichabod abruptly looks up and spots her. She can see the surprise in his eyes, but it’s quickly pushed out by the smile that envelopes his face.   She swiftly turns her head and looks toward the door, wondering if she could slip out before he made it to her. Ichabod notices her eyes, and suspects what she’s thinking, his smile fades and he starts toward her without excusing himself, sidestepping, and one momenting a few people who attempted to speak to him. Abbie’s flustered, yeah she’d flipped out last night, but she honestly felt that she would come here today and find out that she was overreacting, now she’s unsure

“Oh here he comes, I’ll introduce you, put in a good word.” Danny winked.

“Uh actually, something came up. I actually need to take off.” She says trying to excuse herself.

“But what about your interview?” Danny asked, confounded.

“Uh.”

As Ichabod comes closer Danny plasters on a smile. “Good morning Mr. Crane, or as you say, good morrow, this is…”

Abbie felt his warm hand press into the small of her back, as Ichabod leaned down and planted a small kiss against her cheek. Danny’s mouth hung open for a brief moment, until he collected himself and forced it closed.

“Oh.” He muttered, head rolling back.    

“Good afternoon Mr. Reynolds, I see you’ve met my wife.” Ichabod adds tightening a possessive grip around Abbie’s waist. He couldn’t get over how positively luminous Abbie was. Every piece of skin she had exposed looked like it had been freshly kissed by the sun, while her body swelled and flattened in the most becoming way imaginable. He wondered what she was doing there, she hadn’t said anything about coming for a visit. He also couldn’t help but wonder if she’d come dressed this way just for him, or if she was merely out and about enjoying her day. Most of all he wonders how her eyes retain such purity and innocence while her body looks like something borne out of sheer sin. She had just arrived, and already had turned a few heads. Ichabod glanced around the room and gently pulled her to his side warding off all comers. Foremost the man standing directly in front of them, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to find the ever advantageous Mr. Reynolds blathering her ears off.  

By now, Ichabod had grown accustomed to the attention his wife received but he could never quite grow entirely comfortable with it. How could he? She was uncomfortably beautiful, he thought, the type of woman any man in a relationship never wished to bump into while with their significant other. A man not in complete control of himself might steal a few too many glances, while a man with even less control might flat out stare, as Mr. Reynolds was now. Ichabod didn’t even realize that a glower had fallen over his face as he looked upon the man across from him. As far as Ichabod was concerned the way he was looking at her was just as offensive as outright saying that he wanted to bed her.

Danny smirked at Abbie, who couldn’t help but chuckle. Ichabod stared down at her begging an explanation as to what she found so amusing. Abbie quickly noticed his displeasure and attempted to diffuse any misconceptions at the start.

“Actually Danny was telling me what a wonderful team you all have here, and how he’s happy to be a part of it.” She smiled.

“Was he.” Ichabod asked, looking back over to Danny. A young man came over needing Ichabod’s signature on a few papers, and he reluctantly stepped away to sign them.

“Aw, man.” Danny shook his head, inwardly wondering how his uptight boss ended up pulling the beauty standing before him. His eyes rolled over her in a manner he hoped was discreet. He side eyed Ichabod across the room and let out a heavy breath of air.   _He can’t be hitting that right._ He thought, before turning his attention back to Abbie. _Nah, not possible._ He inwardly ruled.

“Wow, so should I just go clean out my office?” Danny smiled coolly, unable to keep himself from showing her his teeth. An alarm sounded through the back of his head begging him to stop flirting with his boss’s wife.

“No worries Danny,” Abbie smiled. “I think you’re good at what you do. I _am_ in a form of security, and you have a fairly good read on him, he can be difficult to work with, but trust me he’s a good guy. Anyway, it has to be helpful in your profession, being able to read people like that.” She commented, impressed.

“So helpful that I just tried to put the moves on my boss’s wife.” He chuckled.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I had no idea you were trying to put the moves on me. I thought you were just being nice.” Abbie stated.

“Well you must get a lot of people being nice.” He said in a clearly flirtatious tone. He bowed his head a little kicking himself when he sees Abbie’s uncomfortable expression. He raised his thumb and pointed it behind his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to just, you know what I’m just going to head back to my office while I still have one.” He smiled.

“Okay,” Abbie smiled in return.

“Hey Danny, she calls just as he’s turning to leave. “Little tip, he’ll grow to trust you the longer you work with him, then he won’t always be over your shoulder, and he won’t seem so know-it-all-y, hang in there.” She encouraged him.

Ichabod stood across the room distracted by the conversation between Abbie and Danny, and not at all pleased with the way he was looking at her. She’d only just met Mr. Reynolds, what could they possibly have to talk about. He quickly wrapped up his affairs and strolled back over to her, just as Danny was retreating.    

“Nice meeting you _Mrs_. _Crane_.” He smiled, before returning to his office.

“Nice meeting you too.” She replied, before turning around to see a frowning Ichabod staring her in the face.   His eyes skipped across the room to Danny just as he was turning the corner, and quickly bounced back to Abbie. He looked at her quietly, and though he would never phrase it so she knew that this particular look roughly translated to ‘the fuck was that about?’ Abbie bent down and gathered up the plant she’d gotten him.

“I come bearing gifts.” She smiled to ease the tension. Her cheerful expression had the desired effect as he quickly let go of his sour feelings. He accepted the plant with one hand, and grinned as her took her by the hand with the other.

“Allow me to introduce you to a few people.” He stated leading her over to the receptionist desk. He placed the plant atop the desk before beginning introductions.

“This is our Miss. Hardy.” He grinned. “Miss Hardy may I present my wife Mrs. Abigail Crane.” Noreen stood at the other end of the desk looking on as she had been the entire time he was talking with Abbie and Danny. She had stared at her picture long enough to recognize her immediately.    

“In the future, please send her right in.” She overheard him telling Danielle.

Miss Hardy stood and held her hand out. “Please call me Dani,” She beamed, “ I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

“Oh absolutely no problem, I didn’t mind waiting.” Abbie smiled, and turned to Ichabod. “I didn’t mind waiting.”

He squeezed her hand, and walked her further down the desk to Noreen’s station.

“And this is our ever studious administrative assistant, Miss Kelly.”

The woman smiled up at him with a soft giggle. “Ichabod I told you, you can call me Noreen.” She said just before raising to her feet.

“Oh yes.” Ichabod stammered, “Miss Noreen.” He corrected himself, and held out a hand in front of Abbie. “May I present my wife Mrs. Abigail Crane.” He said letting his hand fall to Abbie’s back.

“Hi, so good to meet you!” Noreen stated with near undetectable false excitement.

Abbie shook her hand. “Likewise.” She said with a swift nod.

Dani looked up from her computer screen with a rueful smile as Abbie and Ichabod entered his office. She turned to Noreen, deriving a little too much satisfaction from her displeasure.

 

“And you‘re certain you do not wish to visit a few of the other departments?” Ichabod asked.

“Yeah another time.” Abbie replied stepping across the threshold to his office.

“Wow.” She gasped looking around. “Nice digs. Big.” She states as he closed the door.

“This is Perry’s doing.” He explained, setting his things down. He took out his phone and started typing so Abbie decided to show herself around a little while waiting. After a moment she moves closer to him.

“You don’t need to water it often,” She says, picking up a framed picture of the two of them with the boys from his desk. A small smile played at her lips as she remembered the night they took it.

“Just feel the soil with your fingers once a week, and water accordingly.” She said returning the frame to his desk.   When she looked up, she found him still glued to his phone, and she began to wonder if she was interrupting his day.

“Hey, if I’ve come at a bad time” She begins,

Ichabod continues looking at his phone, but cast a single finger to the air. “Just one moment.” He requests.

Abbie stepped further into the room, brown eyes gravitating towards the wall sized windows. She left her purse in a chair she passed by in route to them.   Suddenly the blinds drew closed and the room darkened significantly. By the time she spun around to protest it was too late, an arm belonging to a body that seemed much too far away to reach her stretched out, and yanked her to him. The tips of her shoes drug across the low gray carpet as Ichabod gathered his sweetest thing into his arms. His lips greedily parted hers as he held her there imprisoned, soft curves nearly gone flat against him while her lips separated in appreciation of the pieces of him too hard to bend. There was power in it, this feeling, this knowledge that she had this effect upon him simply by being…her. To another woman it might not mean as much, but to a woman who was once a girl that never really quite belonged, it was everything. She belonged here, with him, to him. He allowed her to be both powerful, and powerless in his arms, the choice was always hers.

He was relentless and unyielding in pursuit of her kiss, if she lowered her head for even the tiniest breath he dipped his as well, attacking her mouth from below, kissing her lips until she lifted her head back up. The skin covering her brown knuckles stretched and lightened as she gripped his jacket in an attempt to keep balanced. He allowed her a seconds rest, noting her unsteadiness, and then he kissed her again, softer, longer, with lips sweeter than she previously recalled. And then she let go, but didn’t fall.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered against her heavy breaths. “You understand?” He softly asked.   “I have you.” He proclaimed before drawing her into another scorching kiss, each smooch begging on the next. There was a clarity in his kiss that she could only feel and truly understand while it was happening. When it was over she remembered the gist of the feeling but forgot about the intricacies, the small details of their connection that cemented his position inside of her heart. So every time she kissed him she had an

 _Oh yeah, and then theres this,_ type of moment.

This was how she came to know the feeling of floating while her feet were still against the ground. She would do anything for this starburst feeling he always gave her, that was the way he made her feel, like new light. _How could this be good?_ She reasoned in a moment of sublime awareness. _Nothing that feels this wonderful could ever be good, could it, could it?_ His fingers dug into her back, while the sweet taste of his tongue filled her mouth, and suddenly it became clear, it didn’t matter. If he was good, great, if he was bad, she would ride with him anyway…she would ride for him. Because this was a love like she’d never known, that me and you against the world type of love, that I’m a cop but fuck this job, I broke your ass out of a mental institution type of love. That, you were quarantined with the plague and I broke you out of that shit too type of love. And all of that was before it was even love, before a kiss, before the dick, before the rings…before the kids. So she needed him to be good, it was the only part of him she’d ever truly experienced, but that wasn’t to say that she didn’t recognize the darker parts of him. That wasn’t to say that she didn’t find herself attracted to them. She knew him.

When he finally releases her for air, she sees a light dusting of color she had covering her lips smeared against his. She spends a moment gathering her breath and thumbing it from his lips. His fingers stroke the side of her face, and she grabs them, blessing them with a few kisses. His eyes swell with love watching her and the next second his mouth covers hers again, like he’s trying to make up for all the kisses she hasn’t received these past three weeks. He’s holding her so much tighter than usual, almost as if there is nothing in the world that could ever convince him to let her go. She wonders if he knows how it feels when he holds and kisses her this way, how those kisses and caresses made their way directly to her heart. He moaned quietly as his teeth gently tugged the flesh of her bottom lip, she whimpered and he slowly released it. It’s freedom lasted a mere two seconds before he decided that he wanted it back, lips surrounded and sucked it inside of his mouth where he held it captive once more. Low desperate groans rumbled from his chest as his tongue left her mouth and he suckled a path of wet kisses from her lips to her throat. Abbie nearly died at the sound of the soft noises he made. There was something inside of her that unraveled when his voice got this way, something about the sound of it that reached her on a cellular level. Perhaps it was the way that it seemed to grow even deeper when he was aroused, or the way she could almost feel it moving through her instead of just hearing it. She was undone by it every single time, and the only thing she could think of when she heard it—this human mating call of his—was giving him whatever he desired.

His wide thumbs on her hipbones, her body said yes before he asked the question.  

“Oh God.” She softly murmured, weakened. Her legs shook as his kisses pushed her to madness, towards begging. She wanted to stop the uncontrollable throb she felt pulsing through her middle, she needed him to stop it. Her heart fluttered, and started beating at a pace indicative of how anxious she is to feel more of him. Almost as if he sensed as much his hands slid down her arms, and inched around her hips.

“Baby.” She breathed hearing his quiet groans grow deep, fingers gathered around and dug into her rear. He’d always been good at showing her what he wanted, everything from the way he touched her to the look on his face alerted her to his intentions. The twinkle that usually sat in his eye had faded to black along with the rest of his iris, while the underlying ludic spirit she usually sensed when they were alone was nowhere to be found. He leaned his head back, and gazed at her. Had Abbie not known better she would have thought he was completely incapable of smiling.

“Infinite beauty,” He gushed before kissing her lips again. “And your hair is quite fetching.” He quietly rumbled against her soft lips, eyes closed, viewing her through memory. His fingers coiled around a few braids.

“Stunning.” He breathed, before tightening his digits beneath her bottom and lifting her from the ground.

“Mmm, thank you.” She said quietly between pecks. “Extensions.”

“I’m aware.” He stated as he carried her to the couch. He sat her down like she was and eggshell and positioned himself between her thighs.

“You know how mightily I favor your natural locks,” He reminded her placing a soft kiss against the underside of her chin. “But by God you are a vision to behold either way.” He whispered sealing his lips to hers. Ichabod notices the seductive grin across Abbie’s face when he leaned back a little. Only then does a touch of playfulness reach his features.

“As I am sure you are already _acutely_ aware.” He quietly states sealing palms to her thighs, and taking view of her body. “Yes Mrs. Crane, you know well all of the gifts that you possess.” He smiled, defeated.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Abbie teased, lifting her thighs along the outside of his hips. “I just wanted to bring you a plant and a piece…” she licks her lips, “Of pie.”

His face grows bright as his fingers find his belt. “Mrs. Crane.” He warned, unlatching his buckle. Abbie inclined a single brow, and squeezed his waist with her knees.

“Mr. Crane.” She says in a bold return. Every inch of her face saying bring it on and every inch of his cock ready to do just that.

“Have you forgotten so easily, or do you presume I mean sport?” He asked, eyes flickering with lust.

_Oh damn, let me calm my ass down._

“Much to the contrary,” She responds, slipping a lonely hand up his chest. “I remember it all, and I know damn well you mean business.” She’s on fire for him, though as much as she wants to tell him that she means business too, wants to look him in the eye and tell him to do his worst, she knows she can’t.

“Show me how much you love me.” She sighs, caressing his cheek. “Gently.” She whispers, sucking his neck.

He melts against her, sliding a hand up her skirt and forcing the fabric around her waist. He kissed her lips while skating his fingers up her thighs, growing harder at the sensation of her twitching beneath his touch. He gaped down at her legs with unconstrained intensity, his eyes lift to hers as if he wants to say something but he doesn’t. Abbie had always been comfortable with her body, that hadn’t changed now that parts of it were growing. So far the only thing that bothered her was not having jeans that fit, nor the time to go out and purchase a few pair that did. But she couldn’t gauge what he was thinking by the way he looked at her just then.

“I um…”

“—You’re perfect.” He whispered, stopping her before she tried to explain something that needed no explanation. She had gained a few pounds, the same way she had when they first started making love.    

“Forgive my gaze, but know now and always when I stare at you thusly, it is because I like—no I love what I see.” He said in regard to what she could only presume was her thickening hips and thighs.

“Permit me to show you how much.” He requested pushing forward. His fingers gripped her thighs as he pulled her bottom toward him. A low groan broke free from his throat as he ground his hips between her parted legs. He almost lost himself, left fascinated by the sound of her softly mewling through a shiver that followed his touch.   Her small fingers unwrapped from around his torso and clenched around the top of his tie.

“The door’s locked right?” She asked in a voice a little huskier than her own.

“Yes.” He rumbled in a shaky huff, his excitement grown far too great for him to concentrate. He’d locked the door the moment they’d entered the room, and sent Dani a message informing her that he did not wish to be disturbed.

“My calls are held as well.” He added.

Abbie came to talk, about a lot of things, him coming home, mortgages and petty cash, but she couldn’t think about any of that with him touching her this way. He forcefully crushed his hips into her and the room took a spin. She sat forward realizing the only way to ensure they weren’t too rough was to get on top.

“Come here.” She commands, pushing him back and guiding him to a seated position upon the couch. He sunk back with a soft grunt, overly eager to be her willful servant. She tried to focus on stepping out of her shoes as his large rough hands slipped up her legs. She had barely footed her shoes aside before he pulled her close and lowered her to his lap. Her breaths hitched and broke at the sensation of his turgid erection throbbing between her thighs.

A quiver pulsed through her middle, and she turned her hips in a slow friction laden circle that signaled the end of his patience.   His fingers skimmed along the edge of her shirt and bra, tugging the fabrics down just enough to tongue an erect nipple into his mouth.  

“Crane.” She whimpered, her head falling back casting her braids to his lap, while her knee poked against his armpit.

He left her breast, softly dragging his wet lips up her chest until the came to rest across the hollow of her neck.   He had closed the blinds, the lights were out, so how was it that the entire room was illuminated. Just her presence brought forth a vibrancy strong enough to brighten spaces that by all accounts should have been dark.

He slouched down a bit further, his eyes closed as her nimble fingers disappeared inside of his underwear and wrapped around his length. A sharp breath of air flew into his lungs, as her name tumbled from his lips.

“Abbie.” He groaned. His pink tongue drug over his lips, face grew coarse with desire. His day had ended the moment she walked into the office, and he knew it. Plants and pies, simple guises used to shield her true intention. He knew what she came to bring him, could see it in her eyes the moment they walked into his office, the only provision he ever truly needed. When she left this building he wouldn’t be far behind, he worked hard, he deserved this, he told himself. This was the problem with loving her, once was never enough, he could melt days away in her arms. Her breath and tongue glide against his neck as he slid a long finger between her folds eliciting a soft mewl. Her wetness is bizarre even for her, and the feel of it coating him as she ground against his shaft had him ready to explode before penetration. The coil in his belly grew unbelievably tight and he knew he couldn’t wait a minute longer.

“Please.” He breathed, using a few fingers to pull her panties to the side. Her warm hands gripped his erection as she rose up high to take him. Anticipation closed his eyes.

After a few too many seconds her stillness opened them.

“Abbie?” He whines impatiently raising his hip. He glances at her realizing she’s fixated upon something just over his shoulder. He twisted his head to find her eyes pasted to a large brown hair clip she gripped between her fingers.

_Oh for God's sake._

Her hand had scraped against it as it stretched over the top of the couch. She knows what she’s holding, and though it paused her for a moment she didn’t immediately suspect anything.

Why? Because of the affection he gives her, because he’s the love of her life, because he is her aeternalis and treats her like a queen…Because it’s Ichabod. Sure her brain froze a bit, but when she thought it through, it was hard to imagine him involved in some surreptitious escapade. So she decides it’s nothing.

And then she sees his face.

He looked…guilty, and she’d spotted far too many guilty faces in her time not to immediately recognize his. A deer in headlights. When it hits her it’s immediate, and hard, so much harder than she’s prepared for, but she feels it. He attempts to take the clip but she pulls it back as she stands to her feet.

“Th-there are meetings held in here,” He stuttered. “Quite regularly it probably”

“—I bet.” She snapped, and he stopped speaking. “Look at me.” She said.

Three seconds. That was the amount of time he managed to look her in the eyes before his eyes shifted.

“Crane.” She says, shoulders slumping.

“Yes.” He answers in a quiet hesitant tone, barely meeting her gaze.

“Move.” She orders.

“Abbie.” He said tentatively.

She quickly shoved him by the shoulders before yanking up the couch cushion, and wedging her hand beneath it.

“Abbie what are you doing?” She heard him ask. Ichabod’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he stuffed himself back into his pants.   She isn’t listening to him to a degree that makes him question her hearing, but quite frankly he doesn’t know what he would say if she did.

“Abbie.” He called again trying to calm her by grabbing her shoulder but she pushed him away. He motioned to grab her again but she looked at him in a way she never had before, and he thought better of it. That’s when he felt it, that fear of hurting her, of really losing her, and he knew then exactly what he would say. Anything.

This is the way that she had always operated when working a case, if you find something, don’t assume that’s it, look again, see if there’s more because nine times out of ten there is. People remember things the way they want to, but clues, observable facts told the truth. She was zeroed in, and could barely hear him calling her name and asking her what she was doing even though he was right beside her. When she didn’t find anything beneath the cushion she slid her hand into the corners and searched there. She was a woman possessed searching, searching, searching. For what, she doesn’t quite know, but she’d settle for anything that could cast a little light upon the reason his face looked the way it did. He’s still babbling on beside her to an aggravating degree, if she wasn’t so focused she would have told him to shut the fuck up a half dozen times by now. He keeps asking her again and again what she’s doing, what she’s searching for…and then she finds it. Her fingers close around another object and she quickly brings it from beneath the cushion.

Abbie looks down at her prize, a turquoise tear drop earring in her hand, and feels her world wobble. Her mouth says a silent “what” before she finds the strength to put her voice behind her thoughts. She holds it in the same palm as the barrette.

She looks up at him, noticing that his eyes have grown as wide as hers and he’d finally closed his fucking mouth. She couldn’t hear him before, he was going on and on grabbing at her trying to get her to listen, and she couldn’t hear him. Suddenly it’s like her ears have come unplugged and she hears everything so clearly, but he’s gone quiet. What’s worse is the way he’s looking at her, like he’s going to be sick, like the next words he speaks will hurt her, and he’d rather never open his mouth again. She never thought that she would be here, standing in front of the man she loves getting ready to ask him a question she’s not sure she was strong enough to hear the answer to.

“What the fuck is this?”          

 

 


	29. Time Will Reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey All! Sorry about the super long delay. I've been seriously trying to work on this story since Thanksgiving, I just haven't been able to. I have a few chapters written after this one so I hope to post another one very soon. Thanks for all of the love, I really appreciate you all! I was never able to read this chapter in one setting, which causes me to worry that it's boring, lol, but i hope it isn't.

Before the question left Abbie’s mouth she’d already turned the inquisition on herself.  She was, with him, as close to certainty of someone’s love as she could ever imagine being.  But it was amazing the way a single seed of doubt could dilute it all.

_Did I miss something?_ She asked herself. 

Her memories rewound.  In a matter seconds every scrap of information she’d ever retained or learned about him came under review starting with the night she’d rounded the precinct corner and come face to face with the curious man locked inside of the holding cell.  Nothing prepared her for how quickly their bond grew from there.  The battles, victories, and defeats, the inexplicable comfort they felt from one another’s company, _the_ _company_ they dreamt up countless ways to keep from parting with.  All of this was before they’d ever moved in together, and when they did it all became so much more unmanageable.

At work there were triumphs and prolonged embraces, while at home there were awkward collisions and silly silences that always seemed to follow them.  Chess battles breeched the midnight hour, and the smell of blueberry pancakes greeted her with the sun.  But there was nothing in any of that which explained his propensity to do this sort of thing, and certainly nothing that could explain the way his face paled when she’d discovered the barrette.

Abbie stood facing Ichabod, eyes upturned while the regent of her doubt dug into her fisted palm.  She felt like she needed to pinch herself awake, unable to believe that she was standing here questioning him this way, unable to believe that any of this was real.  The expression he’d worn when she first mined the earring from the sofa, the sour-stomached one that even now he attempted to hide reminded her that she wasn’t dreaming at all, quite the opposite, she was wide awake. 

Still it felt impossible, like she’d played a game of cards in which all of the cards were facing up, but still couldn’t comprehend the way the hands had played out.  She asked herself again, _Did I miss something?_

_You saw what you chose to see_.  A small voice replied.  _Remember?_

And the memories whirl through her head, all in a flash.  The rush of bittersweet turbulence she felt when his strong, but unquestioningly married arms wound around her on a darkened dance floor, the security she sensed when those same protective arms pulled her from another man’s car and saw her home…shouting matches ensued giving way to apologies, small kisses, and piggyback rides.  He wanted to talk then, but she hid behind chess pieces.  Soon after, they’d gone to steal the Crystal of Siberia, and ended up thieving kisses beneath Oregonian skies, well ‘William’ and ‘Audrina’ were _technically_ the ones kissing, but no sooner did their lips part than Ichabod stood before her on that balcony and demanded she say his name and claim it real. She did.  Later that evening he sat her on his lap and told her that he loved her, and til’ this day her ears had never heard anything so sweet.  After that he looked her in the eyes and told her that she was his Apple…God help her, she believed him.   

_There are pathways, nothing ever just happens._

_It was different_. She thinks, cloaking herself in a comfort she isn’t sure is warranted.  But she hopes because if it _was_ different, if there was something about their love that was inherently unique then perhaps she could justify the existence of it while he was still married.  Perhaps she could justify not putting her guard up after she discovered the impassive relationships he’d had with women before.

_Was it different?_ She challenged herself as the images of the women he’d discreetly torn through taunted her.  _I suppose I was different as well_ , their nameless voices said.  _Me too!  Hey what about us, we were different_!  Soon the mirrors of her mind were clouded over with pretty women whose faces she really couldn’t remember.  All of them claiming the same thing she had…exception.  Something notwithstanding the obvious that brought him to their door.  She was inwardly panicking until she slowed herself down and forced herself to remember what it was he was so desperately chasing then.  Her.  Silence befell her thoughts as she recalled the world before this one, and the girlhood dreams she’d had of the tall boy who travelled the maze with her.  A connection that anchored her to him before they’d ever met.

_It was different._ She tells herself, _I am different_.  And this time she believes, but still…

Ichabod stood in the center of what felt like an ambush, but instead of bullets and swords flying about there was only her.  He looked down at Abbie’s hard-set face watching as the color drained from her eyes like sifted sand, speck by speck.  The only thing he could think of was replenishing it before his time ran out.  Like a traditional ambush, it had happened too swiftly for him to keep up but, unlike a true ambush his options of weathering it were limited.  Were it a regular surprise attack he might have had the chance to flee and seek cover, perhaps in some off and away bunker where he could hold up until the dust settled.  But there wasn’t anywhere he could go that he wouldn’t still love her, and no place known to man where he wouldn’t feel the sting of the way she looked at him just now. 

He was still unclear how any of this transpired, only a moment ago her heavenly curves were settled above him taking control of his entire life, and in the next breath he was not only orphaned of her warmth, but also being made to defend himself.  It wasn’t fair.  His nerves were shot, and his heart was beating faster than he thought safely possible.  It was a rapid, steady, thump against his ribcage, ticking like a bomb, and he knew without question she was the only thing capable of triggering or diffusing it.  It was always her.     

“Say something.”  She quietly ordered, voice stuffed with apprehension while her eyes were an explosion of impatience.  Ichabod blinked down at his wife, palms perspiring as he tried his damndest to figure out the quickest path to restoring the light her irises usually held.

“I, I,”  He choked at the sound of his own voice, hearing how thin and shaky it was only caused him to grow more disconcerted.  He cleared his throat, and said the first thing that popped into his mind.   

“I’ve no idea.”

He stood tall, holding his breath as he wondered what she was thinking.  For a moment her face went blank and he released a quiet thankful sigh imagining that was the end of it.  But in the next instant her eyes had rolled shut and he knew he’d made a terrible miscalculation.  When she went quiet and kept her eyes closed it usually signaled prayer, prayer while she was angry was usually a clear indication of rage.  During those times at least two souls hung in a delicate balance, hers, and whichever soul was so unfortunate as to have aggrieved her.  Ironically, the only time he was ever truly afraid of his wife was when she prayed that way.  Though he was too frightened to close his eyes, Ichabod sealed his lips together during the uncomfortable quiet and silently prayed along with her.  He didn’t get the chance to finish.   

“Look at me.”  She ordered, as if he wasn’t already. 

“I am, Treasure.”  He carefully replied, unblinking.

Her eyes narrowed in on him as her head angled off to the side.  “You have _no_ idea?” She asked slower this time.   

Ichabod’s stomach plunged as his ears keyed in on the rhetorical air she spoke with.  A nervous tremble overtook his fingers causing him to promptly shove them into knots behind his back as he attempted to respond.  

“I.”  _Recant and tell the whole of it_.  A small voice from the back of his head urged him, but just as quickly Bren’s voice came forward and he was reminded of the conversation they’d had this morning.

 

“Wait.  You’re thinking of telling _who_ _what_?”  Bren had asked.

“Abbie.”  Ichabod responded as he mulled things over.  “The truth.”

“That is the most self-sabotaging noise I have ever heard in my life.”  Bren said shooting the mini nerf ball into the hoop hung atop Ichabod’s bathroom door. “What the hell would possess you to tell her that?”    

Ichabod scooped up the ball, and palmed a moment before taking a shot.

“Abbie and I,” he sighed, watching the ball bounce off the rim, “we do not keep such things from one another.  We are, quite close.  I know it may not appear that way at the moment, but truly we are.”  

“I’m close with Kayley,”  Bren responded, pulling down a shot to instead lecture his friend, “But what I’m not going to do is tell her that I woke up with another woman in my arms when I didn’t hit.  That’s like going to the police and turning yourself in for drinking and driving just because you had a bottle of unopened liquor in the car.”  He tossed the ball into the hoop and turned around.  “You didn’t crack the bottle right?”

“Crack the _bottle_?!  Ichabod exclaimed, hands raising in front of him.  “Not only did I not open the bottle, I neither purchased the bottle, I have no recollection of ever touching said bottle.”  He groaned, before adding.  “I simply woke and there it lay.”  He left the game and walked across the room to his couch, plopping down.  Bren followed him over, idly tossing the ball from hand to hand.

“And you’re _positive_ it was still unopened, you didn’t try to like…pull the plastic off the lid and take a little swig?”  He asked, settling into the chair across from him.

“—Absolutely positive.”  Ichabod emphatically declared before his friend could finish getting the words out.  His head fell back against the wall behind the couch.  “Plastic off of the lid,” he cantankerously muttered, rubbing his eyes. “You are not helping.”

“Look I’m just trying to understand how it was _just_ there?”  Bren asked, trying to get a feel for things.  Ichabod wearily raised his head. 

“I am as uncertain as you.”  He confessed, as his fingertips closed around the bridge of his nose.  “She wore a scent eerily similar to Abigail’s, I am nearly certain that it was the same, however it smelled differently upon her skin,”  He recalled before staring off blankly as he tried to sort out the memory, “not as sweet.”  He remembered, eyes returning to Bren.  “Nevertheless I awoke to the feel of a hand moving upward against my abdomen, at which time I reached down and pulled her close and that was the moment I realized…”   

“It wasn’t Abbie.”  Bren supplied, setting the ball down at his side.  Ichabod nodded his head.

“Look,”  Bren shook his head, “from everything you’ve told me, no harm no foul.  If nothing happened telling Abbie will only invite more stress, and I would not by _any_ means do that.  It’s not like you don’t already have enough shit to deal with, but that’s just me.”

“To the contrary I must confess the same sentiment has been circling my thoughts since the incident occurred.”  Ichabod admitted, biting his lip against the thought of telling her. “Especially in light of how peculiar she has been behaving as of late.”    

“You don’t have to convince me.”  Bren said, gently scratching the backside of his head.  “But truthfully you have to be just as careful if you decide not to tell her, because honestly she might already know.”   

A chill shot through Ichabod, his shoulders drew up as he quickly sat forward.  “I beg your pardon, how?”  He asked not realizing he was holding his breath.

Bren leaned his head to the side and stared blankly at his friend.

“Look Ichabod, I don’t really know how to say this to you but…your wife is a black woman.”  He stated plainly.  Ichabod pointedly eyed his friend as a mixture of relief and irritation coursed through him.  He settled back against the couch pushing a heavy breath of relief out as his heartbeat returned to normal. 

“Thank you for being so kind as to point that out _Brendan,_ I had not realized.”  He returned in a haughty tone, his fingers stretched across his forehead as he attempted to massage the stress from his temples.  Bren rolled his eyes in response to his friend’s sarcasm.      

“Listen to me,”  He explained.  “I have four black sisters, four, that means I grew up with black women, my mother’s black, I was raised by a black woman, and I am now _married_ to a black woman,” He counted off, “So I think I have some insight on the way they operate.  I’m not saying they all operate the same, because clearly they do not, each and every one of my sisters who were raised by the same mother and father are wildly different.  What I’m trying to tell you is that your woman might already know.”

“Forgive me if I fail to see how Abbie, who is not now present, nor has been present, nor spoken to Miss Kelly or myself who aside from you are the only individuals who know what transpired might already know.”

“Look you think that black girl magic shit is just a hashtag, trust me it’s not.  I’ve been studying them for my whole entire life, I know.” He said slapping the top of his hand into his palm for affect.  Ichabod grew quiet, eyebrow rising as his curiosity piqued.   

“For everything I know about physics I know ten times as much about black women, and I’m telling you, they know things that there is absolutely no logical explanation for them to know.  It’s like they’re tapped into some alternate space of consciousness or some shit, and quite frankly I’m surprised no one else has noticed it by now.  I don’t know if they’re getting their intel from the CIA, KGB, God, or the muafuckin’ Devil, but they get it.”  He said confidently.  “In Kayley’s case I think it’s all four, honestly.”  He pensively added, nodding his head.

“You’re serious?”  Ichabod asked, an ironic grin growing across his face. 

“As a heart attack,” Bren quickly replied, taking stock of his friend’s amusement. “See you’re smiling, but this shit is not a joke, you need to prepare yourself for the fact that she might already know.  Listen,” He went on, “Even my daughter has it.  Just last week I finished putting together this ramp for Ian. Hannah was in the garage painting flames on this box car she and Kayley put together.  She made a big deal about only wanting Kayley to help her with it, even though I have degrees in Aerospace and Mechanical Engineering, amongst others, and Kayley has a degree in _Linguistics_ ,”  He said using air-quotes and rolling his eyes, “but that’s another story.”  Ichabod began to realize that his friend might be the only person who spoke with his hands as much as he did. 

“So Hannah looks over at Ian with her little paintbrush dangling in her hand right when he’s getting ready to test the ramp, and she says, _don’t do it Ian, you’re going to hurt yourself_.”  Bren repeated softening his voice to mimic Hannah’s. 

“I was offended.”  He reported, palm flat against his chest, “I felt like she was underestimating my craftsmanship, which correspondingly was the same way I felt when she asked Kayley to help her build the boxcar instead of me, but like I said, another story.   So I told her, Banana you stay over there with your little paintbrushes and boxcar that you and your mother didn’t want anybody to help you with, I hope the wheels fall off.  But I didn’t really hope that, because she’s my princess, and I never want her hurt, but I told her that because I was hurt.  So then I look at my son, I said _son_ do not let anyone discourage you from accomplishing something that you know you can do, you got this.  And I watched this fire grow in his eyes man, his chest puffed up, and I could just tell he felt unstoppable in that moment.  So he hopped on his skateboard, built up the perfect speed, hit that ramp…”

“And.”  Ichabod asked, intrigued.

“Split his shit wide open.”  Bren revealed, cringing in remembrance.  “It was blood everywhere, I almost passed out.”  He added veridically.  “He had to get six stitches on the side of his temple.  Kay wouldn’t look at me for three days.”

“My word!”  Ichabod exclaimed, eyes growing large with concern. “How is young Ian?” 

“He’s good…now.  But the point is we came home from the hospital and I asked Banana how she knew, you know, I basically just asked her what made her think he’d get hurt.  And she looked at me and—it was the cutest thing ever guy—she paused her little cartoon program and gave me her full undivided attention, and she said, _well one of the reasons was Ian had his shoes on the wrong feet, so I knew that wasn’t good right away daddy._   How she noticed and we didn’t, I will never know.  But when I asked her what was the other reason she said, _I just knew daddy, you know, something in my spirit just told me that he was going to hurt himself._   As soon as she said that I knew what it was.”

“Black girl magic.”  Ichabod supplied.

“Black. Girl.  Magic.”  Bren slowly nodded. “And Banana’s only six man!”  He loudly boasted, hands growing more expressive as his excitement increased.  “The force isn’t even that strong with her yet.”

“So it’s potency is affected by age?”  Ichabod played along. 

“From what I can tell, it gets stronger as they get older because Kayley has some super bionic type powers I can’t even scratch the surface of comprehending.”  He said as though it was pure scientific fact. 

“Does she, do tell.”  Ichabod asked, unable to stop himself.    

“Guy, two weeks ago she sat straight up in bed at three thirty five in the morning.  I assumed she was getting up to use the restroom or something so I fell back asleep.  I woke up ten minutes later and she was sitting in the same position staring at me with the most sinister, wicked ass look I’ve ever seen in my life.  When I asked her what was wrong she proceeded to tell me how upset she was with _me_ because she felt that I was too friendly with a woman in _her_ dream!”

Ichabod chuckled, as Bren’s eyes flared wide.  

“I said I have no idea who you’re talking about, it was your dream.  She said, _well y’all sure seemed awful buddy-buddy ten minutes ago._ ”  Bren’s mouth fell open in disbelief even as he retold the story.  “I was like ten minutes ago I was sleep, and so were you, are you freaking kidding me, it’s a dream!  At this point I’m just like, go back to sleep dear, I don’t know this woman you’re talking about, it isn’t real.

Apparently the woman in her dream looked a lot like her, she was like her doppelganger or something, which only pissed her off more.  So she legitimately lectured me in the middle of the night about how she would divorce me if I ever even thought about cheating on her.  Kayley literally fell asleep talking shit, talking about _she might look like me, but don’t you ever get it confused, that bitch is not and never will be me.  Especially with that mustard yellow jumpsuit and those red ass pumps, what kind of Ronald McDonald shit was that_?”  

Ichabod felt guilty for laughing at Bren’s apparent distress but he couldn’t help it. 

“I couldn’t believe it.  She literally shaded someone from her dream, and meant it!”  Bren said, eyes bulging.  He looked over at Ichabod, his arm resting on the arm of the sofa as he laughed into his half fisted hand.    

“Wait, wait, wait.”  Bren chuckled, “Here’s the thing, I’m at Tre’s later that week getting a shave, and this woman walks in who looks so much like Kayley I can’t stop staring at her.  I guess she notices my stare so she smiles, and I smile back.  She actually came over and started talking to Tre while she was waiting for her appointment to start, you know they turned the whole downstairs into a nail salon or whatever, but anyway, after a minute, all of us started conversing.  The whole time she’s standing there I can’t keep my eyes off of her because the resemblance was that significant, she was _beautiful_ man she looked just like Kay.  Understandably she misinterprets that attention, and said something a little flirty just as she pulled off her rain jacket.  That’s when I look at what she’s wearing…”

Ichabod grinned, before groaning.  “No!” 

Bren nodded his head, as if to prove his whole point.  “Uh-huh.  A yellow jumpsuit and red shoes!  Up until that point I had completely forgotten about that whole interaction with Kay.  I swear to God when I saw that shit, I almost got up and walked out with my head half shaved.”

Ichabod’s cheeks went red from laughter, he leaned forward attempting to catch his breath. 

“You think I’m kidding, I was halfway to the door when Tre was like bro what are you doing?”  Bren laughed.  “So look I’m telling right now for your own safety, do not _ever_ underestimate black girl magic, that shit is real.” 

Ichabod chuckled long and hard at the thought of Bren attempting leave the barbershop with half a haircut.  His eyes were red with the beginning of tears by the time he caught his breath. 

“Bren,”  He said after he contained himself, “I have no doubt whatsoever as to the existence of black girl magic, however this _is_ the first I’ve heard of it manifesting in the manner which you’ve described here today, this clairvoyance so to speak.  Forgive me but when I have heard Abbie and Miss Jenny speak of it, it is presented somewhat differently.  For example, they might describe black girl magic as the ability of a woman, with no particular mechanical nor carpentry training, building a boxcar, together with her young daughter, armed with nothing but can do, and a measly “ _Linguistics”_ degree between the two of them.” Ichabod teased in a lively voice, air-quotes and all. 

“Aww man,”  Bren pulled his head back already knowing where this was going.  “Guy are you kidding me right now?”

“Oh I assure you, I kid not,” Ichabod happily replied, “And going further, not only do they construct this boxcar, but they also succeed in securing first place in the derby, upon their very first entry!” 

Bren grabbed the ball and whipped it towards Ichabod’s head, who managed to pause from laughing long enough to block it to the floor.

“Who told you?”

“Shall I just say, someone drawing from a separate state of consciousness.”  Ichabod smugly replied.

“Abbie.”  Bren stated, realizing that’s the only person he could have heard it from.

“She shared the link to the video with me just yesterday evening.”  Ichabod admitted with a smile. “You should be quite proud.”

“Three years.”  Bren said with the slight grin and shake of his head.  “Three years I tried to help Ian win that derby, and he didn’t even want to do it this year.  So when Hannah said she did, I thought I had another chance, but hey.”  He laughed.  “I was crazy proud though, I videotaped the whole award ceremony then went home and watched it like eighteen times in a row.  Did you see how happy she was up there, holding her medal up to the sky, and Kayley said she did most of it herself.”

“She looked as though she’d conquered the world.”  Ichabod fondly recalled.  “You and Kayley are quite blessed.”  He added almost a little dolefully, trying to envision a future where he and Abbie might be gifted a girl.  It seemed too great a distance away to imagine.   

“Man I thank God every day, and that’s the truth.  Look,” Bren said standing to his feet, he picked up the compensation package that he and Ichabod had reviewed earlier, “This is,” He shook his head tapping the packet against his hand trying to figure out how to ask what he’d been worried about, “You’re sure I won’t be stepping on anyone’s toes, I mean this package would make me the second largest shareholder in the organization, P…”

“—Is on board.”  Ichabod stated resolutely.  He stood to his feet to join him.  “Do not worry about Perry.  He is much happier in the field, talking and meeting with clients, and quite honestly he is much more effective in that role, he’s good at it.”  He added nodding to himself.  “But the fact remains that I need a partner here, and when I presented him with projections as to how far I believe this company can travel with the two of us at the helm, well he was happy, eager even to part with some of his shares, as was Ethan, as was I, there is plenty to go around.”  

“I see that!”  Bren lauded, taking a look around at the spacious office.  “And P sent me a pic of his new car?”

“The Aventador?”  Ichabod’s head dipped as his voice took on a reverent tone.

“Broooo.” Bren said into his fisted palm, face wincing as he recalled first seeing the vehicle.  “And my man got the roadster with the matte black.  That boy is the epitome of cold.”

“Egregiously overpriced for the service it provides.” Ichabod returned, before lowering his tone. “But cold indeed.  And the acceleration is life altering.”  He added with a growing smile.  

“Yeah he’s supposed to show me what it can do today after our lunch meeting.”  With that Bren extended his hand and clasped it with Ichabod’s. 

“Alright, I’m going to get outta here, and try to catch Kayley’s planning period just to go over things with her one more time.

“I understand.  Good luck.”  Ichabod said giving his friend a pat on the shoulder. 

“I’ll get back with you in a few hours.”  Bren replied, “And you might want to save that luck for yourself.”  He joked through a half smile.  “You’re good right?”  He jokingly asked reminding him of the looming matter he’d yet to deal with. 

“Oh stellar.”  Ichabod deadpanned before a brief smile, causing Bren to chuckle along. “I have decided it wise in this particular instance to allow sleeping dogs to lie.”

 

Now he stood questioning that very decision. He looked down at his wife toggling between pathways.  The question she’d asked spun around his head on an endless loop while the impatience in her eyes caused his shoulders to feel heavier than they actually were.  _You have no idea?_  

“No,”  He shook his head, brows lifting toward his forehead, “I do not.”

Abbie couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so deflated.  She couldn’t quite decide who the bigger fool was, and though her backbone told her it was him, she didn’t feel that way.  What sickened her the most was how easily the words rolled off of his tongue.  Like he meant them.  Not to mention the way he looked at her as he said them, back straight as a washboard, chin holding up an expression that denoted complete shock.  The way he looked she would have thought he’d never seen an earring a day in his life, let alone the one she currently held.  Like the mere notion that he might have any insight as to how the piece of jewelry was found in his office, buried in his sofa was outrageous.  She wondered how many people he could have convinced he was telling the truth.  She wondered if he had any earthly idea how close she was to Fucking. Him. Up.  She waited for him to break character, to laugh and reveal the entire debacle a hoax, her heart sinks a little further when he doesn’t.

“So...you’re just…”  She quietly paused, attempting to still her temper, “you’re just going to look me in the _face_ , and lie to me Crane?”    

Even though he’d just uttered the words he wasn’t certain how to go about retrieving them, and even he could he’s unsure what ones he would leave in their stay.  Suddenly Abbie was laughing, near breathlessly, he shuddered at how true and dismissive it sounded.    

“Know what?  Screw it.”  She muttered, her laugh and hapless smile waning as she slung the earring in the direction of the couch. He reached out, calling her name and attempting to corral her as she tried to move past him. 

“Do not touch me.”  She warned trying to stiff armed him away, but it wasn’t enough.  Their words seemed to all come out at the same time, Abbie asking him to leave her alone and get out of her way, while he asked her to give him a moment to explain.  He was bigger, stronger, and all over her not really understanding the degree to which she didn’t want to be touched until her palm smacked across his cheek.  He stopped then, seeming shocked as if he hadn’t heard her ask him to stop touching her at all.  Her face broke a little when with the slight shake of her head she wordlessly let him know not to touch her again, that his privilege to do so had been resoundingly rebuked, that the only thing she could feel in the pads of his fingers was betrayal and debasement.  He looked down at the water brimming in her eyes, silently scolding himself for bringing about the very thing he’d hoped to avoid.  A defeated sigh left him as he stepped aside. 

Abbie was surprised that her legs kept balanced after being cut out from under her, but they did and then some.  There wasn’t a slip nor wobble, as she marched across the room traveling as far and fast as they could carry as she went for her purse.  But her hands and lips trembled, the space just beneath her chest ached, and her mind was complete mush.  He knew trust meant everything to her, for him to lie and risk jeopardizing it the truth had to have been worse.  She could barely see straight when she thought of what had to have happened.   

“Abbie.”  He called, trying again as she tugged her satchel from the chair.

“—Not one more word,” She said as solemnly as an oath, eyes slipping across him as she briefly catalogued how pitifully sad he looked, like he was the wounded one, and she was the cheat.

The woman who had habitually made him feel like a king now made him feel as though the currency his voice once held was counterfeit, and no longer welcome in her presence…like the next words he spoke would be etched upon his tombstone.  He stood idle a moment, watching helplessly as she slung her bag over her shoulder.  He tried to do the correct thing, to obey her wishes and allow her the space she’d requested.  He almost managed it, but as soon as she neared the door he hurried to her and caught hold of her from behind.

“Listen.”   He urgently pled as she attempted to wring herself free.  She looked down at his hands on her arms.    

“If you want those fingers...”  She threatened.  Ichabod released her with a sigh, but immediately stepped in front of her positioning himself between her and the door. 

“Please, allow me a moment to explain.”  He bargained, buying time he hadn’t yet figured out how to pay for.

“I allowed you several moments.”  She pointed out, eyes lowering to follow the fingers digging through her purse.  

“And I offer my most sincere apology for each and every second I’ve squandered, but”

“—Oh you’re sincere now,”  She razzed in a facetious tone, not bothering to look at him.  She lightly chuckled to herself, pushing a few braids behind her ear that had slipped forward as she searched her purse. He reasoned he deserved it.  After all he hadn’t exactly been forthcoming but it didn’t make it hurt any less, hearing her laugh, when he knew she wanted to cry, knowing all too well that she was capable of feigning indifference until she actually felt it.

“Move.”  She stated, finally pulling her keys out of her bag and closing her fingers around them. 

“I am asking for an opportunity to explain.”  He petitioned, holding his palms up in submission. 

“And I am asking you to move.”

“Abbie.”  He pled.  The pair stood quietly, neither of them backing down from their position.    

“Fine,” She conceded, eyes narrowing as her arms linked in front of her.  “Explain.” 

Her curtness threw him for a moment, and he wondered if her keys in hand meant she was leaving no matter what he said.  _Will she listen this time_?  He wondered.  And even if she did, how does he tell her that even though he knew how strong she was the only thing he could ever think of was protecting her, and making her happy.  He couldn’t imagine how sharing the incident from last night achieved either of those aims so he chose not to share it.  How does he tell her he lied over something that was nothing, is nothing, and meant nothing without causing her concern that maybe it was.  How does he explain that she’s his purpose, and these are the types of matters he would _never_ allow to touch her world?  He had cleared the air with Miss Noreen after Bren left, and realized that the act was even more innocent than he’d first imagined, but it didn’t appear that way.

“Primarily, rather I...”  He paused, unable to speak past the expression upon her face.  She wasn’t going to make this easy.  She looked at him like the respect she had for him had dwindled away to nothing, and she could hardly stand the sight of him.  His shoulders sunk as he watched her lips quiver in an effort to seal in her sadness.  She looked away, jotting a thumb along the edge of her eyes, stretched red with unshed tears. 

“Apple, please.”  He begged, his own cerulean eyes growing droopy with regret.  She wasn’t giving him a fair chance.  Her judgment was already heavy in her eyes before he’d even pled his case. “I’m trying.”

“Just stop.”  She said, already beyond tired of waiting for him to untie his tangled ass tongue.    

“Move.”  She demanded.

“I lied.”  He suddenly confessed, out of options.

Goose-bumps rose across her arms, even though she’d already known he was lying.  There was something abundantly jarring in hearing him admit it.    

“I know.”  She replied, pausing a moment to strengthen herself before asking the next question.  “Why?” 

“I was frightened, I”  She knew that too.

“—Why?” She cut in, voice cracking.    

“I do not know, because…”  He quietly inhaled, “Because I feared that you would not believe the truth, or more accurately that I would not be able to convince you to receive it before you departed, and I did not wish for you to leave so… _I lied_.” 

Abbie quickly nodded her head while biting the inside of her lip.  He hated himself in that moment, knowing he’d help to put such doubt in her eyes.  He wondered if it would always be there a little now.

“Please do not look at me that way, as though I am someone I am not.”  He pleaded.  “Nothing has changed I remain the same man.”  He maintained.  “Abbie, I am still your husband.”  He said softly reaching a hand out to her.  She quickly stepped back, leaving his hand in the air as he tried to touch her face.  He awkwardly dropped it back to his side, dewy fingers once again taking flight.

“Since the very first day I met you, I believed you.”  She reminded him, memories of following him into a dark cave slipped through her mind.  “So if you’ve done nothing Ichabod, why would you think I wouldn’t now?  When have I _ever_ not believed you?”

Ichabod brushed some of the hairs that slipped from his ponytail away from his face while trying to figure out how to explain himself. 

“Recently…quite often.”  He responded, much to her surprise.  “I feel as though you scantly hear when I speak.”  He alleged before rephrasing.  “In earnest, I am certain that while you do in fact hear me, you simply choose not to listen.”

“Excuse me?!”  Her eyes widened.  “Wait a minute are you seriously going to stand here with a straight face and try to convince me that it’s my fault you lied because _I_ don’t listen.  Is that what you’re trying to say to me right now?”

Ichabod shook his head.

“I never placed a modicum of fault nor blame upon you.  I merely explained,” His eyes quickly flitted toward the couch, pillow cushions still askew from when she’d searched through it ignoring him all the while, “that you’ve stopped listening to me.  Treasure, it is not simply been today nor the sofa.”  He informed her, thinking back to when she first brought Jeremy home.  “At Fort Michilimackinac, I told you then what I most needed the same as I have done countless times since that day, but you…you have simply chosen not to hear it.  Abbie”  He breathed reaching forward almost as if he forgot she didn’t want him touching her.  Her backwards step and tightened jaw quickly reminded him.  He swallowed his hurt.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”   She declared, vibrating with anger.  “I can’t.  I can’t believe…”  She turned away from him and stared across the room, needing a moment to pull herself together. 

“You set a marker, and neither hell nor high-water can discourage you from moving toward it.”  He said, almost finding it easier to say these things when she wasn’t facing him.  “I know better than any, it is one of the things I love most of you, but at times that marker is the only thing you are capable of seeing…your way becomes the correct way, _the only way_ , and no amount of discourse nor reason persuades you away from it.”

“So wait,” She responds, spinning to face him.  “I just want to make sure I get this part straight before I go.” 

Ichabod couldn’t help but notice she was gripping her keys so tightly he worried they would cut her fingers.  “What you’re trying to tell me, is that you’re entertaining other women and lying to me about it, but somehow it’s my fault for not listening to you,” she mimed air-quotes, “and what making you feel important?”

“Abbie!”  He barked.

“No-no-no-no-no, you’re right!”  She said, waiving away his words in a voice far too calm and appeasing to be sincere. 

“The notion”  

“—Don’t”, she warned when he tried again to speak.  It was only a second later but the calm and appeasement he’d just heard were already replaced with venom and a menacing glare.  He held his tongue.  “When I have a goal in mind I can become fixated on it, I work that way, I live that way, it’s what makes me good at what I do, and frankly sometimes when I’m striving toward one thing, other things blow by me, and I don’t always consider everything the way that I should.  I don’t.”  She shrugged, before nodding to herself.  “But do you want to know what phrase I would have heard loud and fucking clearly even if you whispered it; Abbie I’m fucking someone, how about saying that Ichabod!”  She snapped, before trying to shove her way past him.  It didn’t work, and in a flash she felt herself being pulled up into his grasp.   

“—I beg your pardon!”  He protested, hands gathering around the tops of her arms.  “I have neither touched, nor so much as thought of touching another woman since you and I came together.”  He argued peering down into her eyes.  “I have done nothing.” 

“Apple,” He breathed, when she didn’t respond right away.  He was barely able to believe that after all of this time she still didn’t understand how much he loved her. “I would never…”  He earnestly pledged, terror filling every inch of his eyes, “I never would.”  He settled upon.

“Then why would you lie to me?”  She asked, embarrassed by how thin her voice sounded. Like she was afraid to hear the answer.

He placed her heels back to the ground, and dropped his hands to her waist, muttering a small prayer of thanks that she’d allowed him to hold on to her.

“I saw the barrette and then the earring, and…Apple yesterevening during our telecommunication, I felt so close to you.”  He quietly disclosed, melting a little when the sparkle in her eyes told him that she’d felt the same way. 

“I could never adequately convey how good that felt, feeling as though you were here with me, and I with you.  I miss you.  So terribly much.”  He breathed, speaking softly as he drew her deeper into his embrace.  “These past weeks your love has felt much too far away and I’ve no wish to ever return to that feeling.  I am not certain I can survive another month like the previous ones.  I am not certain I can survive another day.  I need you…sweet wife.”   He whispered, fingertips tracing the familiar path up the side of her neck.  His head lowered to hers with a heavy sigh, and quickly he’s unable to keep himself from leaving a soft smooch against her nose. “I need you Abbie.”  He said lowering his head in an effort to follow up with her lips.

“But,”  She interjected, pulling back from his kiss, eye’s large with hesitation.     

His shoulders slumped already sensing her objection.

“I offered Miss Kelly the use of my office for study breaks when I am not here.”  He confided.

“She often stays late to have access to the printers, her cubicle is as well lit and quiet as any library.  The clip must have simply fallen from her person.”  He explained hoping he alleviated any of her concerns.  Abbie was silent a few moments, her eyes sadder than he ever cared to see them again.  He fell short of breath watching her nibble her bottom lip as his explanation seeped into her.  She gently extracted herself from his embrace, and meandered over to the couch, taking a moment to straighten the cushions before letting her purse slip from her shoulder and come to rest on top of them.  He breathed a little easier, realizing she’d decided to stay.

“Miss Kelly? Noreen.”  Abbie said turning around.  Catching Ichabod in a lie had done nothing to settle her hormone driven emotions, but at least her bullshit meter had quieted significantly.  Ichabod carefully stepped over to her, eyes never leaving hers.

“Was she also the one who was here last night?”  Abbie queried.

“Yes.”   

“Is it customary for employees to stay so late?”

“I suppose it depends.”

“Upon?”  Abbie asked.  She watched as his eyes caught on to the fact that this was an interrogation of sorts.

“Let me rephrase, have you had any other employees excluding Perry, and Ethan who have worked that late.”

“No but Treasure, she was not working for the entire duration, as I said she—she was studying.”  He cautiously informed her.   “I had no knowledge, whatsoever, that _anyone_ remained in the building until she came to my office requesting assistance with her coursework.”

“So after you helped her, she went home.”  Abbie grilled him, immediately feeling guilty for doing so.  She didn’t have time for this shit, there were real life criminals that she could have been interrogating making the world a better place.  But no she was standing in the middle of his office policing his dick, this was not what she signed up for.

“Well actually,”  He swallowed, “she insisted upon assisting me with my workload because she worried that in disturbing me from my task, she had set me behind, and quite honestly she had.”  He answered in a definite tone.

“M’hm,” Abbie hummed, quickly weeding through his words for the facts.  “So she left around….”  Abbie led, brows rising up as she lowered her chin.

“Four!”  Ichabod rapidly supplied, eager to prove his innocence.  “Well, a little after four.”  He amended, as her brow drew up.  He felt his stomach start to ache as a flash of he and Noreen nestled against one another on the couch ran through his mind, he still didn’t want to tell her.  Abbie stared at him for a moment, as much as she’s certain that he was being truthful in the things that he’d told her, something was still off.  There was more, she wanted to ask what it was but the little voice in the back of her mind told her that if she needed to ask such questions she shouldn’t be here.  She hated being this girl, caught in this space of uncertainty and hated him for making her feel this way.  There was a meditative gleam in her eye as she gnawed the inside of her cheek in time with the unsettling feeling gnawing away at her gut.  Ichabod came closer to her, and wrapped his fingers around the sides of her shoulders seeing the confliction upon her face.

“Apple.”  He murmured, “I love you.  Stop this.” 

Her head fell forward and for a half second she felt embarrassed almost _.  I really just cross examined this man after he said he didn’t do anything.  He wouldn’t lie…oh, right, he already did._   But he always had a way of erasing her doubt. 

“Hurting you would be the equivalent of severing my own heart, I would sooner swallow crushed glass, dipped in poison.” He breathed, the backside of his fingers delicately following the slope of her cheekbone.  “Do you not know by now that you are the very reason for which I do all of the things I do?  Apple never misunderstand that, and never for even a twinkling fail to remember it.” 

The deepest fibers of her bones shook and she wasn’t the slightest bit cold.  He’d seen to that by twining his arms around her and pulling her close.  And it wasn’t because something about his story felt off—which it did—but because in spite of that she still believed him.  He looked her in the eye and answered her questions, and even though her mind was telling her to remain skeptical, her heart wrapped around his declaration and told her, this is true.  If he were anyone else, she wouldn’t have, were he anyone else she would have already been gone.  Late night, another woman’s shit all in his couch, lies.  But it’s his gangly, awkward, English accented ass telling her it was nothing, so she’s standing there scared half to death because he says it isn’t so, and she…believes.  By the time his lips found hers all was nearly forgotten and she wondered how much of this is actually chosen as he had said.  Choice felt like compulsion where he was concerned, like there was a secret language that only he and her heart spoke.  Contrary to what he believed, it always listened.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt her soften in his arms.  His adrenalin thumped down a few notches now that the threat of losing her had been thwarted. 

“Treasure.”  He whispered, penning delicate kisses to her lips. 

“You lied to me.”  She quietly said, lips raising into a subtle pout that caused his breath to catch. He drug his pointed finger down them and followed with a kiss. 

“Yes,” He quietly acknowledged, briefly closing his eyes in remorse, “and I so regret it, forgive me.” He stated, rubbing his palm up and down her back, subconsciously letting it slip against the curve below her waist.   

He leaned back a touch, gazing into her eyes, before dropping his lips to her forehead.  Almost instantly a touch of security bled through her skin, and she reasoned his arms were the safest place on earth.  For a moment the peace she felt was all encompassing and she couldn’t imagine feeling higher, but it didn’t last. 

Even though the regret in his voice was unmistakable that little kernel of doubt that still existed began to pop and multiply inside of her.  She’d always demanded honestly in her past relationships, why bother if we need to spend time checking and cross checking one another other.  This would have been a dagger, and when she laughed she would have meant it.  The thought of being a fool terrifies her, and a little part of her can’t help but feel like she should have been nominated for the stupid bitch of the year award for how quickly she’d allowed him to right things.  Why did she always make it so easy for him?  Almost as if he sensed her doubt his lips dotted a timely trail of tender kisses from her forehead to her mouth.  He held her to him, kissing her slower and deeper than anyone should have been allowed, and for a moment she imagines herself accepting that stupid bitch award to a rousing applause.

_I just want to thank my husband Ichabod for always knowing what to say or do to shrink my brain cells, be it whispering sweet nothings into my ear, or thoroughly fucking any cells that deign to remain intact out of my body.  Honestly without him, I wouldn’t be the stupid bitch I am today._

Abbie cringed just as she was halfway through an imaginary bow.  “I can’t.  She said, but still kissed him, struggling to gain control of her want and stop herself.  Finally the strength found her, she raised her palms and stepped back.  “I can’t.”  She huffed, “I can’t think straight when you touch me, and I need a minute.” 

He loved her, he said it, he showed it, and she could feel it when he looked at her…but it didn’t matter.  The kids couldn’t have had a better father, Jenny a better brother-in-law, and there wasn’t a being this side of God’s creation with a more potent stroke, but none of that mattered either.  She needed to know.

“Abbie?”  Ichabod questioned, face growing curious as he watched her place her fingertips against her freshly kissed lips.  She went silent as old trust issues and new insecurities made their way into the pit of her stomach.  Something was wrong, and she only needs a second away from him to figure it out.  His words replay in her head and she realizes he’s told her about how the barrette ended up in his couch, but not the earring.

“Crane.”  She whispered, uncertainty inked inside of her eyes.  He took one look at her and knew what he should have known all along, she wouldn’t be happy until she’d put everything in order inside of her head. His fingers twitch as he searched for words, the ones that would do the least amount of damage to her heart and his credibility.  Her eyes shifted to his restless fingers, but before he could bring them under control she’d come forward and encircled them in hers.  Her free hand raised a soft caress to his cheek, the warmth of it rutted out his fear and replaced it with a safety only she could provide.

“Tell me why you lied?”  Abbie asked.  “I promise to listen…to it all.”  She specified.  “I need to know.”

He took her hands in his, eyes slowly closing as he raised her knuckles to his lips.

“I simply,” A soft sigh slunk from his mouth.  “Earlier when we first encountered one another from across the room, there was a particular look upon your face…in your eyes.”  He stated.  “It was almost as if they levied some sort of a charge of misconduct, or wrong doing of some kind.”  He testified.  “And yesterevening when we spoke upon the telephone, there was a notable difference in your tone after our call was interrupted by Miss Kelly, so…”

“So?”  She said, impatiently shifting the bulk of her weight to one leg.  He led her to the couch.

“Please” He said motioning for her to take a seat. 

“I need to brace myself?”  She asked.  “I thought you said you didn’t do anything.”

“I haven’t.”   He said, “You—I.”  He briefly glanced down at her feet, thinking of how she’d seemed uncomfortable standing a few seconds ago. He nearly launched into explaining himself but didn’t feel he needed to justify something as innocent as offering her a seat. 

“Apple” He eyed her warily as he found a firm voice, “please sit.”  He directed with a nod.

Abbie relented, and smoothly lowered herself to the sofa, crossing her legs, and propping an arm on top of the armrest.  Ichabod joined her, taking her hands. 

“After Miss Kelly and I had finished working, we were exhausted.  I fell asleep in the exact location which you are seated.”  He described, placing a hand to the armrest on the other side of her.  “When I did so she was there.”  He said pointing all the way to the other end of the couch. 

“However when I awakened—I presume only a short while later—her head rested upon my shoulder.”  She heard him say.

“Upon your shoulder like how, what do you mean?”  Abbie asked, concern creasing her nose as she removing her hand from his.  She tries visualize what he was telling her, but can’t.    

“I woke because I felt a presence against me.”  He carefully explained, “By habit and I reason desire, I believed it to be you.  I was dreaming of you.”   He emphasized.  “She wears a scent that is quite similar to one you often wear.  I called your name, and I placed a hand to her cheek expecting it to be yours, however when I looked down expecting to see your face there she was.”  He stated gingerly. 

“You looked down and just poof she was there?”  Abbie questioned flatly, throwing her hands up as she stood to her feet.  He rushed to join her.  “Just abracadabra huh?”  She asked.

Ichabod stood silent not knowing what to say, and feeling he’d done nothing to earn the disappointment he saw stretched across her face.

“You promised to listen.”

“I didn’t promise to like it.”  She quickly informed him.  Then it dawns on her. 

“Did you kiss her?”  She asked, mind sifting through all of the times she’d crawled into bed bedside him and he pulled her into a kiss without ever opening his eyes. 

“Course not.”  He answered, but his response was to quiet to give her any comfort. 

“Ichabod?” 

“Nearly.”  He softly confessed, mouth open as he watched her head jolt back in disgust.  Her arms folded across her chest. 

“It was late,” He explained, “For a brief duration, I thought her to be you.  I pulled her into my arms, and…”  He sighed, pausing to reflect upon of how terribly wrong things nearly went.  “Well by some grace, something cut through my exhaustion and alerted me that she was not.”

“Just one something?”  Abbie asked.  “I don’t see too many physical similarities between the two of us.” 

He doesn’t respond. 

“I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to tell me the truth.” She told him.  “Did you think it was me, or did you just want it to be?” 

For a moment he wondered if she was truly unsure as to the answer of her question, or if she’d said it only to hurt him.  He knew what she was getting at.  She’d seen things she shouldn’t have, and knew in graphic detail about the women he’d been with when he was chasing a feeling he couldn’t name.  She thought he’d used them, and most of them he had, but they’d used him as well.  Somehow she had glossed over that. 

“I believed, her to be, you.”  Ichabod reiterated slowly.  Abbie stepped forward searching his eyes for any sign of dishonesty.  Only when she’s certain there was none did she move on.

“And what happened next?” 

Ichabod’s brows penned in together.  “Nothing.”  He replied.  “I removed myself from the sofa and woke her so that she could go home.  Abbie’s poker face is erected and he can’t help but worry it’s a bad sign.

“Apple.”  He sweetly whispers, moving forward and clutching her by the elbows.  He can almost see her working through equations inside of her head, this is what he hoped to avoid.  “Please tell me the thoughts traversing this beautiful head of yours.”  He says fingers raising to cup her cheeks.

“I am,” she sighs, “Just trying to figure out what all of this means.”

“It means nothing.”  He quickly answered.

“I disagree.”  Abbie said, closing her eyes and shaking her head.  He gently cradled her face in his hands, and brought her gaze to his.

“It means nothing.”  He restated in a slow stern voice, hoping she believed him this time.  She blinked, before sighing through a subtle nod.  He ultimately accepted it and dropped his hands. 

“I’m assuming you spoke with her about it correct,”  Abbie questioned.  “What did she say?” 

“She stated that she has had an issue with sleep walking since she was a small child.”  Ichabod responded.  “She reasoned she simply must have moved closer without noticing.” 

His mouth hung open slightly as he listened to Abbie laughing. 

“And you believed that?”  She asked, still chuckling.  Her amusement came to a halt when she realized the answer to her own question.  “Of course you did.”   

“Is there a reason that I should not?”  He asked.  Abbie’s mouth opened, eyes sparkling as she silently shook her head.

“I shouldn’t have to explain this to you, and I won’t beyond this, she did it on purpose.” 

Ichabod sighed, as he rubbed his fingers across his eyes.  “Treasure, take a gander around this room.”  He stated pointing to pictures of her and the kids, the boys’ basketball hoop.  “I know well that you have a great gift for sorting things out, but be reminded that I do as well, and between the two of us I am the one who was present.  I believe your assumption is misguided…it was an innocent act.”

“And I believe that you created a space in which she felt that her actions were appropriate, and going further would be well received.”  Abbie stated almost in a sing song manner.  “When you questioned her about it, she lied, case closed.”

“Created a space…have you gone entirely mad?”  He stated stepping forward, placing a hand to her waist.  “I can assure you I have done nothing to foster an environment that could have invited such attention, which is why as I stated I made certain to speak with her regarding the incident as an added precaution, at which time I discovered that her actions were unintentional.”  He repeated.  “Case closed.”  He muttered shaking his head as his fingers caressed her face. 

“You’re acting like I’m the one who’s talking crazy.”  Abbie retorted, feeling herself being drawn into his warm arms, and doing nothing to stop it.  She was still a little dismayed that he flat out rejected her appraisal of last night’s incident but there were some things people needed to learn for themselves.  The mouth of the river was always easier to see when you weren’t in it.  She hoped he would chart it out before he found himself lost at sea.

“Crane.”  She whispered, as a kiss landed against her cheek, unable to let it go so easy.

‘Hmm.”  He hummed pressing his lips to hers.  She took a deep breath lifting both hands to his cheeks as she stared into his eyes.  He knew. 

“I shall never keep a thing from you again, even nothings.”  He quietly stressed, brows dipping in signaling how serious he was.  His hands came up to cover hers as he pulled them from his cheeks and brought them to his lips.

“I promise.”  He added.

Abbie exhaled as he released her hands and looped his arms around her.  “I miss you.”  He whispered, squeezing her even tighter.  “I do not wish to fight, and I certainly do not wish to waste what precious little time we have alone discussing things of no importance.”  His lips curved into a smile as his soft kisses met with hers, and she could practically feel her spirit being lifted.  “I miss you.”  He intoned again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself from speaking the thoughts inside of his head.  He kissed her face, and told her how much he missed her again, too much elation in his bones to be embarrassed for literally fawning over her.    

“I’m sorry Treasure.”  He apologized, hating that he hadn’t trusted her to hear him.   “Since our introduction you’ve been unfailingly and at times brutally honest with me.”  He muttered with a small smirk, before returning to a serious tone, “I know it might seem a minute thing, however given my history…” he paused slipping his thumb across her jaw, “it has meant more to me than you shall ever know, and I’ve no desire to see you without the same comfort, even for a moment.”  He pledged, before smuggling kisses from her lips that pushed warmth through his entire body.  “I will never lie to you again Apple, I give you my word.” 

Abbie felt sick to her stomach from all the compliments he was paying her.  It was like she’d waded into a hostile territory without ever really meaning to.  Like she’d gotten into her car and drove west without stopping but still felt surprised when she happened upon the shore.  She hadn’t outright lied to him, but she was sure he wouldn’t see it that way.  How was he going to react when he found out about the baby?  She knew how much he cared for her, and she was nearly certain he’d be excited.  But he would naturally get around to asking her about the specifics, how and when she found out.  How could she tell him she’d known for over a month?  That others already knew too?  Would he listen when she told him that at first she was worried he didn’t want to have a baby, and by the time she felt secure enough to tell him she was worried that the baby wouldn’t survive?  Even now there were three weeks before she was technically out of the danger zone, but everything had been going so well she couldn’t help but feel hopeful.  The thing that now plagued her was fear, fear that her silence had diminished one of the things that had always kept them close.  She recalled how alone Jenny recanted feeling after she discovered Frank had lied to her for weeks after Cynthia kissed him.  It wasn’t that he didn’t have a good reason for withholding the information, he did, but Jenny was still hurt by it.  Abbie knew how alone she’d felt after Ichabod had lied, and it had only been a matter of minutes.  Her heart pounded as she searched for a way that they could emerge from this the same.

Ichabod pulled back, feeling Abbie’s body tensing inside of his arms.  She curled her lips into a deceptive smile, attempting to mask her nerves.  She realized it worked even better than intended after he dropped his lips to hers, sucking them with a gentleness that her know how much she was loved.  For the first time, she wondered if she deserved it.  Her fingers shook as her palms flattened against his chest, using his steadiness to push herself away.  Ichabod’s brow dipped in as he snuck a finger beneath her chin and brought her gaze to his.    

“Are you alright?”  He asked.    

_Nope, not at all, I am all kinds of screwed up._

“Yeah.”  She responded, putting on a brave face in the hope of chasing the worry from his eyes.  She leaned back a bit again manufacturing a small smile.  “You’re coming to get the boys after camp right?” 

He brought her back to him and dabbed a kiss to her forehead.  “I am.” He quietly responds.   

“Okay well,” She stated, once again extracting herself from his arms, “I’d better let you get back to work.  I didn’t mean to disturb you so long today.”

“Your presence is the furthest thing from a disturbance I’ve ever encountered.”  He assured her,  extending a mindful hand to her waist.  “In fact I postponed my meeting with Bren and Perry the moment you walked through the door.”  He glanced down at his watch.  “It’s scheduled to take place in a short bit, but I am certain that I can push through it fairly quickly.  Perhaps you might delay your departure…” His voice low and deep, the thickness of it let her know precisely what he wanted, “So that I might accompany you home.”  

Abbie’s chin lowered towards the chest she hoped wasn’t heaving as terribly as she imagined. Through the tops of her eyes, she caught his gaze too direct to be taken for anything other than what it was.  His words always seemed to take root whether she wanted them to or not.     

“Uh, that sounds nice,” She says feeling warmth coloring her cheeks, in time with his fingers curling in at her side, “but I have some things I need to do so.”  _Like figure out how I’m going to tell you all of the things I need to tell you.  Maybe I’ll make him a nice dinner, he’s always more easygoing when his belly’s full._

“Oh.”  He says, lips remaining parted from his genuine surprise.  When she’d mentioned leaving he assumed without a doubt that she was merely being polite, the fact that she was actually leaving, and without him, hit him like a ton of bricks.  It felt like she’d only just arrived, and they’d spent far too much time bickering and not nearly enough time making up.  Somehow in his head he imagined they would spend the day together. 

“I’m not angry if that’s what you’re thinking.” She said, slipping a hand down his midsection before turning to gather her things.  “Just tired.  All of this just…” she smirked, “it took a lot out of me, and I have some things I should tend to sooo I should get on the road.”  She casually remarked tossing her hair back and pulling her purse across her shoulder.

When she glanced back at him it was impossible to miss his subtle aggravation and disappointment.  He could see the plea for peace in her eyes, he kept his mouth shut and tried to give it to her. 

“No it is…fine.” He stated, clearing his throat, and smoothing out his clothes.  She could tell from his demeanor it was anything but.

“Hey,” she tried to explain, “This isn’t about the earring,” She stated sensing his thoughts.  “I have some things I need to”

“—Of course it is the earring.”  He decides with a quick interruption, unable to hold his tongue the way he’d hoped to.  He couldn’t help but imagine how their day might have moved forward had she not discovered it.  “Abbie do you not trust me?”

“I do.”

“Then why do I feel as though I am being punished for something which I have not done.”  He asked, glaring at her.

“No one’s punishing you here Ichabod.” She insisted as her arms dropped from her purse strap and fell to her side.  She couldn’t blame him for being off base but this wasn’t some sort of a pussy punishment.  She could have told him that and let it go, but she’d heard something in his argument that is inherently flawed and felt compelled to bring it to the light.  “And no you didn’t _do_ anything, but that is not to say that you are innocent in all of this.”

“That is precisely what that says.”  He argued, side eyeing her. 

_My oh my, he really can’t see the color of the water._ She realizes as she stares at the serious expression blanketing his face.  She wasn’t going to bring it up again, but he did, so here goes.

“—She likes you, a lot, I saw that for myself.” Abbie stated before shrugging her shoulders.  “Maybe allowing her into your office all times of the night isn’t the smartest thing to do.” 

“Pardon?”  Ichabod asked, a few vertical lies springing up between his lowered brows. He was already so far past the incident it took him a minute to realize what she was referencing.

“Noreen.”  Abbie informed him, like it should have been abundantly clear.  “Can you honestly not see the way she looks at you?  I was here two minutes and I saw it.”

His brows seem to sink even lower as he pauses in thought.  “No.”  He replied deciding Abbie was exaggerating.  “And though I understand your misgivings about the situation, and I do,”  He acknowledged holding up a hand, “as I said before there is nothing to it.  I am her employer, she is my employee, nothing more.”

Abbie remained silent, sober eyes bent toward the ground while her eyebrows lifted in response to how ridiculous she thought he sounded.

“Would you even be here had you not heard another woman’s voice through the telephone yesterevening.”  She heard him question, breaking her from her thoughts.   

Abbie glared up at him, having speedily travelled from being slightly annoyed to furious.  A few minutes ago she was starting to feel drained by the day’s events, and the promise of mayhem to come, but suddenly she was bursting with energy.  _NO CAPTAIN FUCKFACE!  Because I would have gotten to ask you what I was trying to ask before our call was cut short._ She inwardly broods.  Her mouth was half open with the words on the way out of her mouth before her anger stole her voice.  How could he reduce what she felt for him to this.  She didn’t understand how after everything she had been through with him, and everything she had gone through _for_ him, he could insinuate that another woman could have an influence upon what she held in her heart for him.  His thinking that anybody other than him or God could have a say in that was hurtful, and honestly quite surprising, so much so that she repeats his question in an effort to be sure she heard him correctly.  

“Would I even be here?”  She asked, trying to remain calm.  “What do you think?  You telling me you believe I wouldn’t?”

Ichabod was quiet a moment, thinking about the way everything played out.  His wife was always high in confidence, and hands down the most arrogant woman he’d ever encountered in his life, but their estrangement was creating insecurities in them both.  He considered the way she threw a fit and was ready to terminate their telephone conversation when he merely mentioned Katrina, then he pondered the conversation they’d just had about Miss Kelly and the way she’d looked at them when she first arrived.  He glared down at her, contemplating the way she showed up here today, unannounced and looking intoxicatingly gorgeous as she did.    

“I believe that you are imagining things to be more than what they are.”  He answered stepping closer to her.  “I believe that the reason you feel this way is because you have essientialy set me aside, and you are now growing concerned that another might have use for what you have discarded.” He needled.  

“Crane.”  Abbie warned, her quarrelsome tone was usually enough to make him check himself, but he wasn’t hearing it.

“You know what you have in me.  I am far from perfect and though I could never imagine myself to be worthy _of_ you, make no mistake, I am the one _for you_.  I am a good husband, and a good provider, and do spare me the talk of you being able to provide for yourself because you know as well as I that I am not referencing monetary provisions.”  He quickly clarified, raising a finger before her objection could even leave her mouth.  He leaned closer, unable to ward off the intensity boiling through him but still mindful that they needed to be quiet.

“You are my ae-ter-nal-is”  He said unable to find any other words that fully encapsulated the deep connection he felt to her.  “And I provide.”  He hovered over her, informing her in an almost boastful tone.  “I provide for your heart because the one inside of _my chest_ beats for it.”  He grabbed her hand and held it over his heart.  “Do you not feel it?” He asked, far too seductively to not know what he was doing. 

Her eyelids sank, as she shuddered through the throbbing between her thighs.  His warm breath crashed against her skin, and she was immediately thrown back to a time when he’d asked that same question.  A part of her wonders if he’d meant it to happen that way.  She could still remember how perfect he felt, all of his warm, hard frame sprawled out between her thighs.  She’d tried to be quiet that day, almost testing herself to see if should could control her moans.  She was doing spectacularly when those same four words rolled off his lips and caused her to come on the spot.  Any other man would have been satisfied, but he didn’t stop, he kept thrusting into her demanding to know exactly what she felt it until she screamed through another orgasm.

“You feel it,”  He said matter of factly, self-assurance twined in his breath.  Oh yeah, he knew what he was doing. “How I provide for your body.  And this is not conceit nor large-headedness speaking, I’ve no doubt you feel it because I feel it too Abbie.  No other has come close to making me feel this way.  Birds appear from thin air humming melodies inscribed with love when you but lay a hand upon me, and when we…”  He paused, a shiver ghosting through him, Abbie looked up, watching as his jaw tightened, “new heavens are formed.”  He finished, and released her hand.  She was wide open. 

“You soul is the other part of mine, and the only thing I’ve ever wanted was to provide for it.  I believed I did that.” 

“You do.”  She pleaded, but the bleakness in his eyes told her he didn’t believe. 

“I need you,”  He said sadly, “I believed that you needed me.”

“—I do need you, you know that.”  She cut in, feeling insulted and guilty all at once.  “Even before…”  Images of their first kisses, and confessions of love slipped across her mind.  Her thoughts settled somewhere around the lazy boat ride in Oregon where she told him she needed him for the first time.  “I’ve always needed you, have you suddenly forgotten everything.”  She questioned.

“Much to the contrary, I doubt I shall ever be capable of forgetting a single a moment I have shared with you, but the more I look upon our predicament I cannot help but reason that you have.”  He claimed with a quiet brokenness.   

Abbie was bone tired. 

They stood regarding one another through doleful gazes for a spell, both of them almost afraid to continue speaking.  A good part of Abbie was fuming at Ichabod’s insinuation, but when she searched her heart she understood how he’d drawn his conclusion.  She could live a thousand years and never forget how much she needed him, but unfortunately she’d grown accustomed to surviving without the things and people she needed.  Ichabod stepped over to his desk, his hands in his pockets, and head bowed as if there was something on his shoes more important to look at than her.  Abbie stood watching him, arms knitted together as she warmed herself from the breezeless chill travelling the room.  He traced a few leaves of the plant she’d brought him before turning and sitting against the edge of the desk.  His eyes stayed trained upon the floor as he searched his thoughts.

“Your fall from grace to me is an impossibility, and yet mine seems to be such a short distance.”  He proclaimed after a moment, still unable to forget how she was ready to walk out of the office without a second thought.  “It terrifies me, and…”  He raised his eyes to hers, “I am not certain I can continue on in this manner.”

“Oh.  I see.”  She stated, heart pounding from being caught completely off guard.  She didn’t see.  She didn’t understand what he was saying to her but it sounded a lot like a threat or a gentlemanly farewell…like he was as done with her as she was with this conversation.  Her breath shallowed, she needed more air but was worried that anything deeper would upset the terrible ache in the center of her chest.  She had absolutely no idea what to say in a moment like this but felt compelled to say something.    

“I want you to know that it isn’t true…that bit about your fall from grace, Ichabod.”  She say hoping he would look up at the sound of his name, he didn’t.  “It isn’t true.”  She said anyway.

“Isn’t it?”  He asked, a deep frown settled across his face as he continued to stare at the carpet.  He heard what she was saying but knew for himself that the past few months he’d felt the earth cracking like eggshells beneath his feet when she was near.  He’d been trying to do everything right, and every time he saw her he was reminded of how much their separation seemed to agree with her.  She was radiant, every inch of her seemed to be imbued with life and vibrancy, while he was paled over in summer, scarcely able to sleep or eat.  Still here he was in the middle of his office the happiest he had been in weeks, simply because she was here, it mattered not that they were arguing, that for half of her visit she wouldn’t let him near her, she was _here_ , and now she wanted to leave.  He would never understand how she did so well without him. 

Abbie expected him to say more than the _isn’t it_ he’d replied, but he doesn’t, and it feels like another sign that he’s done.  She wanted to come right out and ask him if that’s what he was saying, that it was over, but her bravery waned.  _What if he says yes?_

“You’re saying all of these things right now…”  She tentatively began, holding onto her elbows for courage, “and I’m trying to understand if you really mean them.  Do you honestly believe that I’m here for something other than you, or that I don’t hold you in high estimation because….” _Because I love you too much to allow you to feel unvalued, because you have me in ways I never knew I could be obtained, because I hold you so high that even if you did fall from grace, it would take three lifetimes for you to hit the fucking ground.  Ichabod look at me!_ She inwardly screams. 

“Crane I love you.”  She breathed.

“I love you.”  He nods, in thought, hands folded at his lap. “And yet.”

Her eyes welled with water, she pulled her lips apart to allow a ragged inhale.  “And yet?” 

He sighed and brought his gaze to hers.

“You questioned what I believe, and this is it.”  He stated, pushing himself up off the desk and moving toward her.  “I believe that throughout our separation you have been going about your life, living and doing the things that you need to do for you, and the children and…I understand it, I respect it.  But you have indeed set me aside.”

“That is not fair.”  Abbie whispered afraid to put weight behind her voice.

“I agree, but it is true.  Yesterday you heard a woman’s voice upon the telephone and you began to worry that perhaps there are others who may not mind being positioned in your shoes, and low and behold you arrived here today.  Yet the moment you realized that I am still uncompromisingly yours.”  He nodded towards the purse draped over her shoulder in preparation for retreat.  “Well.”

For a brief moment Abbie has to stop herself from turning around to see if someone else had entered the room.  She didn’t hear the door open but it had to have because who the fuck did he think he was talking to.  Her best friend _did not_ speak to her that way.  The father of her children _did not_ speak to her that way.  The man she chose to marry _did not_ speak to her that way.  Especially on the heels of telling her that he’d just been sleeping on the couch with another woman. The tears that were building in the back of her eyes evaporated from the heat now growing through her.  Just that quickly he’d taken her to the other extreme. 

“Is that right?”  She snapped with a low fury, feeling her ears start to burn.  “Let me tell you something.”

“—There is no need.”  He said, sharply cutting her off, taking confident command of his voice.  “This has not been your failing, it has been mine.”

“What?” 

Annoyance twisted Abbie’s features as he stepped closer, so close that she imagined a deep breath would cause them to touch.  He glared down at her, all shoulders and scowls cutting through her in a fashion that simultaneously made her want to slap and fuck the shit out of him.  She knew then her hormones and emotions were in cahoots trying to see who could drive her crazy the fastest.    

“I understand now.  You’ve done what you must, rest assured that moving forward I shall do the same.” 

Abbie wanted to scoff at his hard bitten tone, but quite honestly she could feel her heartbeat in her throat.  What is it that he thought he failed to do she wondered, treat her like shit, because that’s exactly what it sounded like he planned to do to rectify it. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  She asked, only to watch him shrug flippantly and step away before he smugly replied.   

“What is it you so often say?  Oh yes, I believe I can show you better than I can tell you.”  He boldly sneered. 

Abbie’s mouth dropped open before a little spitfire inside of her told her to close it.  She was rattled, and in an instant felt herself go on autopilot and her defenses took over.  Throughout her life she always seemed to say or do the right thing when she was attacked or threatened, but it never really felt like her, it always felt like a colder, less feeling version of her.  A version that never stumbled upon words because she never gave two shits about what others thought of them, or how they were made to feel because of them.  She calmly closed the space between them and stood in front of him, head tilting back as her chest edged against his stomach, getting as close as he’d gotten to her.

“Well why don’t you show me right now.”  She challenged, sick and tired of his riddles and smart ass mouth. 

Ichabod looked down at the glower covering his wife’s face and could easily feel the anger bubbling through all five foot one of her.  Some people grew loud and screamed when they became angry, and there were occasions upon which she raised her voice, but when she was truly incensed she was always so calm.  His eyebrow arched as he took note of her cool and collected deportment, she was furious.  He knew that her presence inside of his space was supposed to be a threat, but he didn’t feel threatened at all.  Turned on more like it.  He licked his lips, toying with the thought of kissing her.  She would undoubtedly slap him, he knew, but it was a wage he’d willingly pay a thousand times over.  However, he was more concerned with what would happen after she slapped him, would she allow him to kiss her then, or would she leave.  He couldn’t take the risk.

“Soon.”  He stated before inching back.

“Why not now?”  She muttered pointing her finger in his face knowing precisely how much he hated it.

“Abbie.”  His fingers encircled her arms just as there was a rapid knock at the door.  He released her.

“No-no-no you said you were about to show me something,” She grabbed his arm before he could walk away.  “You have all the opportunity in the world to do so right now, I’m”    

“—A moment.”  Ichabod requested, stepping back and erecting a single finger silencing her midsentence.  She stood staring daggers into his back until he opened the door.  

She tried to use the interruption to cool down but she was too far gone, and the time she had to think only caused her to work herself up more.  _Who in the hell did he think he was talking to like that?_ She wondered, eyes pitted on the skyline as her toe tapped a steady tune upon the carpet.  _Talking about I set him aside like I hadn’t told him the last time we were together that the door to my heart and my bedroom were open to him.  Did he forget that this hard line was drawn by him?  He penciled this shit in.  I’m not the one who said it had to be all or nothing, that was him trying to control everything as per usual, now he’s pissed at me because it didn’t work. Fuck him._

A wave of sadness overtook her anger as her mind replayed some of the other things he’d said. _I can’t believe he honestly said something to me about other females wanting my position._   _Who the fuck does he think he is, and who in thee fuck does he think I am?  God, what are you thinking Ichabod?_

She turned and glanced at him, watching as he discussed something with Ethan in front of the door.  A moment later he returned to the center of the room and began slipping into his suit jacket.

“Crane.”  Abbie’s eyes narrowed, head dipping to the side as she realized he was really about to walk out of the room after saying everything he’d just said.  She understood he was working but that didn’t seem to bother him when he wanted to fuck.  It was his company, if he told someone to wait, they would wait. 

There’s a matter that begs my immediate attention.”  He said affixing his jacket buttons.   

“I should not be long, perhaps you might help yourself to a drink while you wait.”  He said, pointing to the scotch and rum selections he had set up on the other side of the room. “And do try to calm yourself before I return.”  He stated securing his final button.

A feather could have knocked her over as she watched him swagger out of the room, and close the door behind him.      

Five minutes later Ichabod walked back toward his office with thoughts of the enigma that was Abbie circling his mind.  A small grin touched his lips when he thought about how frustratingly mad she drove him, how beautiful she’d looked just a moment ago, even though she was ornery as the dickens.  He couldn’t recall ever knowing someone who stood upon their own thoughts and principles as steadfastly as she did.  But it saddened him little to know that her inability to give weight to the arguments of others stemmed from her lack of practice with trusting.  She toggled between humility and bullheaded arrogance at a rate that he couldn’t quite comprehend, but somewhere in the middle of all of that she’d stolen his heart.  He winced to think of some of the things he’d said to her, even though he meant them.  He was hurt and frustrated from her disinterest in ‘spending the day with him’, and he wished he would have let his emotions settle before they argued.  If she couldn’t stay he’d hoped she would at least extend the invitation for him to accompany her.  How could he be expected to focus upon anything else after her visit?

He opened the door to his office with an apology already upon his lips, ready to patiently fight every battle she waged until he could return home.  Only Abbie was no longer where he left her.

”Abbie?”  He called striding toward the bathroom in search of her.  He rapped upon the bathroom door, calling out her name until he decided to twist it open when she failed to respond.  His heart rate kicked up as his eyes darted around the empty room.  He left the bathroom wondering if perhaps she stepped out for a bit, and quickly set out toward the door to question whether she’d left word with Danielle.  That’s when he saw them from the corner of his eye, and wondered how he’d missed them before.  Her black heels sitting neatly on top of his desk.  He slowly stalked toward them, his words flooding back through his mind with an unending echo. _Perhaps there are others who would not mind being positioned in your shoes._ He lifted them up to find a handwritten note underneath.

_Give these to the bitch you deem capable of standing in them –Abbie._

“Oh God.”

 

 


	30. Nothing Where Something Used To Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey All! Thank you so much for all of the love and support, reading, kudos, pms, reviews. I appreciate them all, even if I can’t answer some of the questions. I can’t tell you how it ends, lol. I absolutely appreciate your honest reviews and always, always, always welcome them. It’s been hard for me to find time to write and edit and because of that I think what’s going on in Abbie’s life in this story has been happening for like ages. I think maybe the last month or two of her life has been stretched out over tons of chapters and like a year? Idk. So this is just who she is right now. I do think it was demonstrated in season one that Abbie will lie, and actually hold a lie if she’s afraid or thinks it’s the right thing to do. Had the sandman not threatened to send her into a permanent sleep she might still be like, what demon, I didn’t see any demon, lol. She’s a survivor. I love that about her, and I absolutely get you guys being protective over her. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Everybody comes back in the next chapter to kind of wrap of this part of the story, and kick off the next leg of it! :-)! Please forgive any errors, I have to read this one again.

 

 

_It’s confusing, cause’ I’m the one that left_

_It was preemptive, I don’t know who I am_

_Are we all searching for something we don’t understand_

_Someone else to see through our battle plans  -Nothing Where Something Used To Be, Vanessa Carlton_

* * *

 

 

 

“I cannot be-LIEVE that FUCKING DICKHEAD had the _nerve_ to tell me about another female wanting to be in my shoes.”  Abbie sat in the driver’s seat talking to herself.   As if telling herself the things Ichabod has said out loud would somehow help them to sink in.  Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, lines of fury creased between her brows as she tried to wrap her mind around everything that had just transpired.      

“Oh my God,” she muttered, nearly breaking her turn signal off when she activated it.  Her toes mashed into the brake pedal in observance of the red light in front of her.

“You up there,” She wearily began, “we need to have a talk.”  She petitioned as she sunk back into the driver’s seat.  “Because you know more than anyone how much I love that jerk, but I absolutely re-fuse, I refuse!”  She repeated in case heaven didn’t hear her the first time, eyes briefly slipping closed in anger as if she didn’t have a traffic light she was supposed to be paying attention to.  Her prayers went silent.  _Given the circumstances, I have been doing everything I can to create a normal, healthy, and happy life for the boys and everyone involved.  I’m already doing everything I know how to do, and it doesn’t seem to be enough.  S_ he shrugged, and shook her head. _It doesn’t seem to be working, so_ “I need guidance.”  

_Please guide me into understanding how he was the one who was offended like he’d just had to listen to details about how I woke up on a couch curled up with somebody else_. 

“Can you help me to understand that one, because it just—it isn’t resonating with me.  But _I_ was the one in need of a lecture about conduct when we initially separated.  Okay.  Yeah.”  Abbie complained through an ironic tone. 

“But it isn’t even about the whole couch debacle because I saw it for what it was, and I let it go…and then he had the nerve to come out of his mouth with all that garbage.  Are you kidding me?”  She asked shaking her head. 

“And I am officially rescinding my prayers from yesterday.  I know I asked for him to come home but I am telling you _now_ if his lanky, colonial ponytail wearing behind comes anywhere near my doorstep today it’s going to be a misunderstanding of epic proportions.  I don’t want that, you don’t want that, and even though Kong Balls Ichabod seems to believe he’s hard body right now for whatever reasons,”  She said with a wave of her hand, “I can assure you that he don’t want it either!  So…I know you got a lot going on, and a lot on your plate, but I need you.  I need for you to intervene right now.  I need for you to take full and _complete_ control of this situation.  And I need for you to get him, and sit him down somewhere, and tell him something, BEFORE YOU HAVE TO TELL HIM TO HIS FACE!” 

A few minutes later Abbie pulled up to the grocery store. She sat in the car staring out across the sparsely filled parking lot, her elbow rested against the window sill while her palm cupped her chin. 

“I’m sorry.”  She whispered, sitting back and rubbing her belly.  She looked down.  “I have to do better.”  She sighed, thinking about all the stress she’d been under.  “All of this unrest isn’t good for you, and it isn’t fair to you…so we’re going to go get some food, some more melon which I suddenly can’t stop eating.  Is that you? ” She smiled, talking to her baby as if it could hear and understand every word. “Then we’re going to go home, have a bath, and after that we’re going to just chill out and do absolutely nothing but lay around and think good thoughts.  Just us—until your brothers get home at least, but no more stress.” 

Abbie spent the next few minutes giving the breathing exercises she’d been practicing a go.  They didn’t help right away but after five minutes of cleansing breaths a good portion of her anger had diminished.  Unfortunately for her, the sadness that replaced it seemed to be even stronger, but somehow Abbie found it a little easier to manage.  The bright sun lighting up the see through sky helped to remind her of everything she had to be grateful for.  Even the simple things, like the tennis shoe’s she’d worn to Sharia’s.  She twisted around and looked into the backseat, reaching her hand back and stretching out her fingertips until she grasped the bag she’d taken to the salon and pulled it up front.   

The supermarket was a ghost-town, a marked difference from the evenings and weekends she usually frequented it.  If it were any other day she would have appreciated it all, how quiet and peaceful it was in its depopulated state, how perfectly placed and untouched everything was.  But today, wind breezed through her braids as she swept through the wide spaced aisles, unseeing as one foot mindlessly plunked in front of the other.  The wheels on her shopping cart squeaked and squealed from the pace, but the noise may as well have been coming from the other side of the moon.  What she could hear, all too clearly, was the voice that a thousand deep breaths couldn’t push out, the voice she’d just left miles down the highway, the one she knew she’d always hear…even if it _was_ coming from the other side of the moon.

On the way to the cold-cuts, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering how she ended up here, not here as in geographically, walking through the middle of the grocery store, but here as in starting the day hoping to ask Ichabod to come home to now loosely contemplating changing the locks just in case he did.   

An inner voice came forward, the annoying one that seemed to mean well, but always told her the things she didn’t want to hear.

_Stop thinking about him._

_It’s easier said than done_

_Bitch.  Did you not hear him tell you to get fucked because there’s a gang of women that want to be with him?  Stop.Thinking.About.Him._

Abbie’s stomach tensed, and her heart sank all over again.  She knew it wasn’t exactly what he’d said, but each time his words replayed, they sounded a little worse and hurt a little bit more.  On top of that she couldn’t decide whether to be angry with him for the things he’d said, or herself for not having the good sense to see it coming.  In the past it would have been a no brainer, she’d blame herself because she would have kept herself from needing or expecting anything from anyone.  She was so far beyond that point with Ichabod, she couldn’t even remember crossing it.  She tossed a package of lunchmeat into her cart and picked up her step, eager to finish up her shopping and get home.

Ichabod could always tell when she was stressed, even early on.  A rueful grin crested her lips as she thought back to how he’d challenge her to a game of chess to help take her mind off of things.  Now he was the thing.  She turned over a few melons checking their color, tapping them and listening for the telltale ring that let her know they were ripe. 

_This is why there are rules.  Relationships 101 Einstein._ She inwardly scolded _.  Rule number one, don’t fall in love with your best friend.  Rule number two, don’t let the best friend you’re not supposed to be in love with, but are anyway kiss you and make love to you like you’re the only woman he’s ever touched.  Rule number three...Who am I kidding, I’d break all of the rules again._ She somberly realized.  She only wished that they came with some kind of a side manual for after they’d been broken.  Like instructions on how to keep so much of herself from belonging to him.  Or how to find a piece of herself that didn’t have his fingerprints all over it.

“Hey I thought that was you!  Abbie.”   Abbie looked up half confused, eyes darting in the direction of the voice that broke her from her thoughts.

 “Hey,” She said, dragging it out until her brain supplied her with a name to match the face.  “Talum.”  She casually finished, hoping he wouldn’t notice.  He abandoned the cucumbers he’d been looking at and wheeled his cart over to hers.

“Man, that’s high level right there, you don’t even remember a brotha huh,” He chuckled, while Abbie tried to hide her embarrassment behind a grin. 

“I do too.”

“You were like hey,”  He said mimicking her tone which sounded both happy and worried.  “Then five seconds went by and you were like Talum.”  He laughed.  He couldn’t help but think how ironic it was that he made it a point to shop midday in an effort to avoid seeing people he couldn’t call by name without a clipboard in his hand, and yet here he was the one forgotten.  Abbie pursed her lips not knowing what to say. 

 “So how’ve you been?”  She asked, desperate to move on. 

“I’ve been good, you know.  Things are going well career wise and with my folks and whatnot so I can’t complain.  What about you?  How’ve you been?”

“I’m doing good.”  She said, and he immediately remembered she wasn’t one who jumped to share things about herself. 

“Yeah?  How’s your sister doing, um Ja...?”

“You mean your snitch, Jenny,”  Abbie supplied, “she’s good.” 

His head fell back with silent laughter. 

“Do you know how many drinks she made me buy for all that info?  Your sister can drink, and not the cheap stuff.”

“What?!”  Abbie exclaimed unable to hide her amusement. “She sold my information to you?  And didn’t even share the drinks with me?  Oh my God.”  Abbie shook her head, as they shared a laugh at her sister’s antics.

 “So how are things on the force?”  He asked, as the laughter waned.

“Great.”  She replied, content to leave it at that. 

“Great.”  He smirked shaking his head.  “Great like…”

“Like…well I’m working predominantly on cold cases right now which I thought would be, you know kind of boring, but surprisingly it’s not, it’s different, really interesting.”  She nodded.

“Well that’s good, because we both know you don’t do boring.” 

“To the contrary, I should clear that up.”  She corrected him. “I am the self-appointed queen of boring.  Do you see my shopping cart, this is the epitome of banality.”    

“What?” He said with a tsk of his tongue, “Nah,” he added looking down into her cart.  “Look at all this fancy, exotic stuff you got in here.  You got the kosher bologna, not just the regular.  Is that a real life box of Wheaties, you’re about to solve all the cold cases, and catch all the criminals after a bowl of those, and what is this Doe-vè?”  He joked pulling her bars of soap from her cart. 

“Get away from me Talum,”  She grinned snatching her bars of Dove from him, and putting them back in her cart.  “Don’t you have a heart surgery to botch, I mean perform, or something.”

“Oh, wow.  It’s like that?”  He grinned, remembering now things he too had forgotten.  Seeing her was like hearing an old new song.  One he loved hearing and grew excited about every time it came on the radio, only he never had the chance to learn the words to it or even the name.  It stayed fresh and unplayed, and every time he heard it he was reminded of how much he enjoyed it.  A familiar fondness brightened his eyes, and Abbie looked away sensing a shift in the air.  The lull of quiet coupled with the unmistakable attraction she saw in his eyes let her know they’d left behind the wow I’m surprised to see you phase of their conversation.  She already felt uncomfortable by his next words and she hadn’t even heard them yet.  She needed to say something before he did. 

“So,”  She began, starting to tell him she was married.

“—So, you never called.”  He cut in, “Well, actually you did call to say that you couldn’t—,” Abbie held her hand up beside her face.

“Wow, and that’s a ring—two rings.”  He quickly corrected himself.  “Okay, so that explains some things.”  He commented, still looking surprised.  Abbie donned a closed lipped smile as he awkwardly offered congratulations.

“Well congrats Abbie, that’s, wow.”

“Thank you.” Abbie nodded, with a small smile, the sort that fades as soon as it forms.  “I never got the chance to truly thank you for all of the flowers.  They were beautiful, and it was very thoughtful, so, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”                                              

Abbie eased her elbows off of her cart and grabbed the handle.  “Well, it was good seeing you.” 

She’d made it to the edge of the produce section when she heard him call her name. 

“Abbie.” 

She turned her head around to find him striding toward her, maneuvering his way around a few shoppers focused on lettuce and spinach selections.  He licked his lips and inhaled a shaky breath, looking every bit as hesitant as someone diving into waters they hadn’t tested the temperature of.

“So uh…how’s married life treating you?”

Abbie stared up at him straight-faced, before offering a small nod.  “Good afternoon Dr. Bradford.”    

Talum smiled, and stroked his chin feeling foolish for even trying it, but nevertheless his estimation of her swelled.  “Good afternoon Ab

“—Mrs. Crane.”  She called back over her shoulder.

He sighed, “Forgive me, Mrs. Crane.” 

 

 

 

Abbie travelled the main aisle toward the checkout when her eyes softened on a romper she spotted in the baby/toddler section.  She didn’t remember moving toward it, but in a flash she was standing in front of the pale yellow outfit admiring the neatly stitched animals etched across it.  Her fingers stilled a few inches from the fabric, her quiet hopeful smile draining as she remembered the other rules she’d set for herself. 

_No supplies for the baby until the end of the twelfth week_. 

She was getting tired of these rules.  All of these guidelines in place to minimize the risk of pain.  When she really thought about them she realized they never actually worked, pain always had a way of manifesting.  Was she really supposed to shutter herself off from the love she felt for her baby because she was afraid of losing it?  It was already too late.  She constantly caught herself talking to her baby, singing to it, realizing her hopes and dreams for it.  Already she loved it more than she could put into words. 

But still, rules were rules.  She quietly looked around as if she were being watched.  Like someone was hiding behind the clothing racks judging her for breaking a promise she’d made only to herself.     

_Just this once_ , she told herself, happily sliding the garment from the rack.  She made herself the same promise as she filled her basket with five or six other outfits her baby just _had_ to have.    

 

* * *

 

 

Abbie leaned over the tub and released the drain, cutting her bath short in order to get some food into her stomach. It wasn’t that she necessarily felt hungry more often, only she couldn’t ignore her hunger when she did feel it.  Now when she needed to eat, she need to eat, immediately, putting it off wasn’t an option.  Not only that but she needed to eat exactly what she wanted to eat, and lately that had consisted of melon, melon, and more melon. In the room, she carefully pulled one of Ichabod’s undershirts over her bun, easing into it and watching it fall nearly to her knees. 

Downstairs, she’d just finished devouring a fried bologna sandwich and a plate of melon when she heard a car in the driveway.  She leaned back from the table knowing instantly who it was. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”  She protested, eyes looking up to the ceiling as if God was sitting in the molding. “Didn’t we talk about this?”

She sat there a moment, thumbing through her magazine figuring maybe Ichabod would get the hint and go away.  Of course he didn’t, the knocking only increased.  Unable to keep her focus on the pages in front of her Abbie moved over to the kitchen sink, tuning him out while taking a scrub brush to the melons she had soaking in vinegar and water. 

Ichabod gave up on the garage door, and walked around to the front but quickly realized she’d latched that as well.  After a few minutes of knocking unsuccessfully, he started calling her name.

“Abbie.  I know well that you hear me.” She heard him call through the cracked door.  “Do you wish for me to unhinge this entry way?”  He stiffly asked. “Is that what you would like?” 

“No!”  She shouted, having grown as tired of hearing him knock as he was of knocking.  She abandoned her melons and marched through the foyer, quickly unlatching the chain and yanking the door open. 

“I want you to GO AWAY!”  She shouted, staring him down.  Ichabod couldn’t recall seeing her so angry with him.  Her eyes were perpetrating remorseless homicide, and putting forth every indication that it would become actual homicide if he attempted to cross the threshold. 

She was fuming.  Her fists were clenched at her side, rising and falling with the heave of her chest.  She looked as though she meant every word she’d said, and at that moment he began to seriously consider whether or not she did.  Heartbroken, he suddenly felt like a nuisance.  He wondered if she meant it, that she wished him to leave.  As soon as the question passed through his mind, her face shifted and for a brief moment the anger she’d constructed to cover her pain faltered.  She was hiding.  The same as she had done every other time she was hurt.  All of the instances in which she’d barricaded herself in the restroom to contend with her injuries alone bounced through his mind.

“I do not believe that.”  He softly stated, needing to be right more than he could admit. 

“Really?!”   She asked, head dipping forward as sarcasm raised her tone.  “Well I hope this helps?”  She stepped back and slammed the door in his face.  Ichabod stepped forward, leaning his frame against the door as he heard the lock click. 

“Abbie.”  He called, with a quick knock.  “Abbie.”  He repeated more urgently.  The day had gone mad.  Already he’d driven halfway around the city in search of her.  When he first arrived home, she had yet to return, but his nerves wouldn’t allow him to sit and wait.  He’d searched the precinct, the archives, the ballpark where they used to sit and talk after a game, and even drove by Irving’s in search of her vehicle.  When all of the searches turned up fruitless, he returned.    

He reached into his pocket to grab his keys again but his fingers fumbled over them, and they clinked against the porch.  He cursed the day as he bent to retrieve them.

“Hey neighbor!  How’ve you been?”  Ichabod cringed, his hand came to his forehead, pushing back his locks as he returned upright.  He turned to find Ms. Jacobs on the sidewalk in front of the house.  Judging by her attire he reasoned she’d been out for a jog.  She checked the fitness tracker on her wrist and continued walking in place awaiting his reply.

“Hello Ms. Jacobs, I am quite well thank you, and how are you faring on this fine afternoon?”  He responded, lengthening his frame in an attempt to hide how discombobulated he was.  

“I can’t complain.”  She stated, stopping her legs, and taking a few steps through the grass.  She squinted, casting a hand in front of her visor. “Just soaking up this warm weather.”  She replied, twisting her head in an effort to see around him.  “Did you get locked out?” 

“Oh, no.  I merely,” Ichabod legged down the steps. “I merely dropped my keys.”  He explained, jingling them in front of him as proof. 

“Oh.”  She smiled, seeming satisfied.  “Well good, don’t want that.”  She casually added, eyes rolling over him in barely contained admiration of the way he filled up his suit.  His hands clasped in front of him, a posture he’d learned to adopt when speaking with her as a practical measure of stopping her from casting glances at things she ought not look at—dick gawking, Abbie called it.  The next few moments he pretended to listen while she went on about the time she’d gotten locked out of her house, and needed to call for a locksmith.  His social skills allowed him to fill in the “hmms”, and “such a shames” at all the appropriate pauses, but the only thing he could think of was the woman walled up in the house behind him.

“Boy I haven’t seen you around in a while, I mean in person, I saw the editorial about your app in the paper, and read all about how you’re funneling those proceeds into education.”  She gushed.  “I said to myself, now that must be why he’s never home anymore.”  She threw out there.    

“Yes well, I’m afraid I have been quite preoccupied with work obligations recently.”  He informed her, noting the subtle dig for info he heard laced in her voice.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.  So you’re no longer at the university?”

“No—rather, yes.”  He clamored, reconciling things inside of his own head before taking a breath to explain.  “I mean yes and no.  I remain on faculty at the university, however I am negotiating to do so more in the vein of a visiting professor.  My entrepreneurial ventures have commanded my attention as of late.”  He stated.

“Jan and I were just talking about how exciting it all must be.”  She said referencing another one of their neighbors, “You must be very, very, busy, I’ve noticed your car is never here when I leave for work in the morning.  Come to think of it I hardly ever see it in the evening either.”

“I am.”  He replied with a nod.  “Quite busy, although hopefully that will change soon.”

“Oh, hey Abbie!” She waived, causing Ichabod to look over his shoulder just in time to see the drapes close.

Ms. Jacobs frowned looking off at the window a moment before returning her gaze to him.  “I don’t think she saw me.”  She reasoned. 

“Oh, of course not.”  He stated knowing full well his wife had seen her.  “The glare.”  He offered, casting a hand up toward the sun.  “Apologies,” he smiled, “I am afraid I must excuse myself.”  He glanced back at the window before returning his eyes to her. “It was a pleasure chatting with you Ms. Jacobs.” 

A warm smile curled his neighbor’s lips, as she took in his closed lipped grin.  He’d grown accustomed to seeing that particular smile from her.  It always lingered a bit too long.   

“Anytime, the pleasure was all mine.”  She stressed, lowering her eyes across his frame before returning to her walk. 

Ichabod, silently scoffed as he started making his way back to the front door.  Suddenly the idea of banging upon it embarrassed him, and he doesn’t know how he didn’t realize what it must have looked like before. Abbie had the ability to take him so far away from himself.  People noticed things, and though Ms. Jacobs didn’t lack the tact, or have the gall to come right out and ask him whether he still resided here, he knew she wanted to.  He changed paths, and marched into the garage, shutting the door behind him.

Abbie stood over the stove frying another piece of bologna.

“Abbie.”  Ichabod called, knuckles rapidly rapping against the door.  She tried to ignore him, but ultimately couldn’t resist venting a bit of her frustration.  She left the stove and walked over to stand in front of the door.   

“Oh, I see you’re done talking to the chairman of your little neighborhood fanclub.”  She taunted, unable to stop herself.

“Fanclub?”  Ichabod repeated confused. He opened the door as far as he could before the latch activated.

“Lieutenant wait!”  He called, leaning his face into the crack just in time to see her slowly backing away.  She paused, arms folding in front of her as she looked out at him.  He breathed a little easier knowing she’d stayed.

“Please,” he softly entreated, “open the door so that we might look upon one another and speak of this face to face.  Apple…I love you.”

There was a moment of silence but he could tell his words were sinking in.  She took a tiny and hesitant step forward, eyes watering as her hand raised to unchain the lock. 

“That’s it Apple.”  He breathed, but immediately wished he hadn’t.  Something sprang alive in her eyes just as her fingers touched the metal.  He watched her shake her head and recommence backing away.

“No-no-no, Abbie!”       

She was gone.

Ichabod was doing his best to exercise restraint.  He could have easily broken the chain, a multitude of ways in a split second.  But he’d never been one to do things simply because he could.  At the end of the day, he didn’t live there any longer, what right did he have to destroy her property, or even be in her space when she didn’t wish for him to be.  He was stuck, muddled in some sort of vampiric existence of waiting to be invited in.

Abbie’s lips tightened into a frown as she tried to stop herself from getting choked up.  He sounded so sad, and every part of her wanted to let him in.  She stood over the stove tearing up as she flipped her lunchmeat, and cut a slit in it.

“Please just, just go away Ichabod.” 

“Please speak to me.” He pled. 

A few tears fell over into the pan and sizzled alongside her lunch meat. 

“No.”  She sobbed, a hand darting up to cover her mouth the second she heard how emotional she sounded, she hadn’t fully realized she was crying.  She cleared her throat and strengthened her voice.

“Just leave me alone.”  She managed.

“Apple, treasure let me in.”  Ichabod petitioned, heart thumping wildly because he could hear now that she was crying.  He had to get inside.  Just as he’d resolved to break open the door, he caught sight of his ladder out of the corner of his eye.

A few minutes later Abbie was sitting at the table eating and crying at the same time.  Ichabod had closed the door, and stopped knocking.  She hadn’t heard his car start, but maybe he’d gone.  Hell maybe he had gone to Ms. Jacobs’, lord knows she was down for the cause _._

_Stop.  You know better.  That woman flirts and talks his ear off every chance she gets, and it’s never bothered you before._

_Yeah but he wasn’t falling asleep on couches with random women before,_ she thought as she tearfully chewed her food. _And I wasn’t having dreams about him being with other women before…and he sure as hell wasn’t saying things that made me feel like any of that was possible._ She rose and took her plate to the sink, conflicting emotions warring inside of her as she flipped on the faucet.  A large crash rumbled from the upstairs, unsteadying her and ripping her from her thoughts.  She trotted up the steps to investigate the noise, and made it halfway down the hall before she saw Ichabod coming out of Jenny’s room dusting himself off. 

“Ugh.”  She grumbled, turning on her heel, and rapidly moving in the other direction.  Her feet sped up in reaction to the sound of his long legs striding behind her.  She practically ran the final steps to her room, and slipped inside instantly turning to slam the door, but Ichabod’s palm caught it before it closed. 

“I have had my fill of barriers between us on this day wife.”  He stated bullying his way in.

“Leave me alone Crane.”  She snapped, folding her arms in front of her. 

_How._

A million thoughts coursed through his head as he tried to figure out a way to alleviate the burden he saw in her eyes.  He wanted to tell her that she should stop saying things she didn’t mean, especially hurtful things.  He knew as well as she did that she needed him here right now.  But he also knew that such a proclamation would only anger her further, and cause her to fight against his presence even more.  He chose another truth instead. 

“I am afraid I am woefully incapable of fulfilling such a request.”  He responded, unable to stop his hand from reaching for her.  She stepped back and twisted away from his touch, the fabric of the shirt she wore just slipped through his fingertips.  

It hurt him and she could see it immediately, the same way she could see how sorry he was from the moment he stepped into the room.  It didn’t change the fact that he’d trampled all over her feelings, or that she could still hear the callous condescension he’d spoken with before.  He couldn’t just go around saying whatever he felt like saying and then apologizing and expecting her to forget it.  Not after he’d done so much to make her love him this way, with everything.  Not when her hormones had her so out of whack that she’d actually gotten jealous over him talking to that dick gawking Carol.  Not when she was so unsure of things all of a sudden.      

“I’ve no idea how…”  He sighed, and pressed on, “I might go about leaving you be.”  He solemnly confessed, voice heavy with the weight of that realization.  His brain never failed him, but it was useless as a second asshole where she was concerned, he couldn’t reason his way out of everything he felt for her.  She caused him to operate differently, and because of that, sometimes he said and did things that he shouldn’t.  He knew that better than any.

“I did not mean the things I said in the manner in which you took them—in which it was relayed.”  He quickly corrected himself, already reading her dissatisfaction with his words.

Abbie laughed, shaking her head at his half ass apology, but the tears in her eyes told him that she didn’t find it amusing at all. 

“Bull.”  She said, dropping her arms to her sides.  “How else could you have meant it?” 

He stood quiet because quite honestly he was still is unsure as to what had come over him, and propelled him to say some of the things he’d said.  All he can truly recall is how upset he became when she wanted to leave. 

“Or better yet,” Abbie continued, shrugging her shoulders. “How else could I have taken it?”  She asked providing him with another option as she waited for him to respond.  He didn’t, he stayed quiet as a church-mouse, eyes shifting nervously, and filling with remorse.     

“What it is,” Abbie stepped forward looking up at him, “is you called yourself putting me on notice that according the _world_ you have some things going for yourself.  I don’t dispute that.”  She shrugged, “It’s clear for all to see.” 

Ichabod tried to interject but she spoke over him.

“Don’t.”  She warned through clenched teeth.  “What you fail to realize is that I never cared about what you had or didn’t have, and I’m sure as shit not about to start now.”

“Abbie I never suggested that you did,” He carefully pled, trying to keep his outrage that she believed such at bay.  “Try to understand.” 

“—But you did…you did.”  She shook her head, as fat tears welled in her eyes, petitioning for freedom.  The longer she looked at his face the closer she came to giving it to them.  She looked away for a moment finding the strength to hold them back, vowing not to let him see one tear after the way he’d spoken to her. 

“Or at least you suggested that _I should_ care.  Because that’s what they care about right?  These women you spoke about, the ones who wouldn’t mind being positioned in my shoes.”

Ichabod would have given anything for a time machine. 

“They don’t even know you Ichabod.”  She calmly reminded him.  “Maybe they read something about your app on some blog, or sat across from you at some meeting or saw your picture in the paper,” she said nodding toward the article still sitting on her nightstand, “but they don’t know you.”  She said, disgusted they were even having this conversation. 

“I love you,” She said clutching her chest, “I am here _for you_.”  She pointed at him.  “I don’t care what anyone else sees in you, or how anyone else sees you, because _I_ see you.  I always have.”

The pain in her voice ate away at him, he could scarcely comprehend how terribly he wanted to hold her just then.  The prickly feeling in his eyes informed him that he needed her in his arms as much as she needed to be held, but he knew better than attempting it.  He wished he could take back the words that caused her to feel this way, but knew he couldn’t do that either. 

“Treasure”

“—I love you even if no one else in the world loves you, and I thought you understood that.”  Her resignation rang through in her tone.  “I thought that you felt the same way about me.”

“Of course I do.”  He pledged, frustration coloring his voice.  “Abbie…of course I do.”

“Well then how would you feel?”  She asked.  “How would you feel if I essentially accused you of only assigning value to me based upon how much someone else wanted me?”  She questioned.  “I’m just curious, how you might feel, if I told you about all of the men who wouldn’t mind sliding into those size fourteens?”  She said pointing down at his shoes. 

“What is that to mean?”  He asked, now leering at her.

“I suppose the same thing that you meant.”  She answered, staring up at him.

He was the teacher in the family but somehow she was better at it.  Even when he hated her lessons, he clearly understood them.  He looked down at the ground a moment trying to stop himself from growing angry, but it was too late.  He now fully understood the error in his wording, but wasn’t quite certain how to make it right.  Abbie looked up at him watching annoyance tighten his jaw.  He looked away in an attempt to hide how much her words bothered him.

“Mm-hmm, that’s what I thought.”  She stated.

He already knew what time it was.  But he would never hear of the men who she could tell were still waiting in the wings, hoping and looking for any entry she might provide.  He would never here of the men she had to check _hard_ for their attempts to cut into her _despite_ her relationship with Ichabod.  They didn’t matter, and she would never bring it up.  The same way she never brought up the random guys, such as the one that started flirting with her in his office elevator when she was barefoot as a fucking Flintstone. 

Ichabod understood that she was upset but nonetheless he wished she would have proved her point using another illustration.  Because she has been here, and he has been there, and hearing about any mention of men who wanted her only caused him to grow defensive and jealous.  He wanted to know what was said, when and where it was said, and by whom.  He only grew more irritated realizing he was in no position to ask.

“And now _you’re_ angry.”  Abbie said throwing her hands up.  Exasperated, she took a deep breath and walked over to the wall to rest her shoulders.

“Not with you.”  He said after a few too many moments of silence so it seemed out of nowhere. 

“What?”  Abbie asked, breaking from her muddled thoughts.

“I am not upset with you.”  He said.

“With who then?”  She shrugged looking around.  He sulked a moment, biting his tongue, fingers going haywire at his sides.

“Crane?”

“—What men?”  He pouted. 

“Not this shit again, that’s the whole point!  Were you even listening to me?  They don’t matter!”

“IT MATTERS TO ME!”  He shouted so loud Abbie would have bet money the windows rattled. 

_Oh._ She thought, swallowing hard as her lashes fluttered in front of freshly sobered eyes.   A moment ago he was on zero, but somehow blew by every digit between one and ninety-nine, and landed right on a hundred.  He was clearly conflicted, as evidenced by the booming thickness in his voice and the contemptuous scowl covering his features.  A mixture of remorse, nervous excitement, and unpremeditated arousal swept through her.  He kept so much inside that whenever he stepped outside of his carefully calibrated system of manners it always got to her.           

“Crane.”  Abbie said softening in lieu of his distress, hating to see him upset.

“You” He said, voice lowering as he stepped in front of her, “are all that I have…you’re all that I want, _you_ and my sons.  And when someone seeks to take you away from me, they seek to divest me of everything.”  He confided, expression shaped with ire. 

“So perhaps it is best that they are made aware that I will use anything and everything at my disposal to prevent such an event from ever occurring.”  He looked down at her wondering if she had any idea of the cities he would topple for her honor.  “I cannot lose you.”  He declared, blue eyes teeming with anguish.  He stepped closer, raising the temperature in the room.

“I cannot lose you, and I feel as though I am.” 

“Hey.”  Abbie softly called, placing a hand to his chest.   

“—Every single day, I feel as though I am losing you.  And much worse I feel powerless to stop it.  I have done all that I know how to do Abbie.”  He added now standing so close that his feet were positioned outside of hers.  She could hardly breathe.  He placed his hands to the wall behind her, and lowered his head. 

“Instruct me how to reach you.”  He whispered, voice taking over her senses.  “What words might I speak that have a prayer of finding your ears, what act might I complete to prove to you that we belong with one another.  Speak it and see it done.”  He pleafully intoned.  Nervous worry travelled up from his middle and constricted his chest when his plea was met with no response. The little bit of breath he could draw, he held in as he found the courage to ask his next question.  

“Are you finished with me then, is that it?”  The warm air between their lips was all hers, he couldn’t think of breathing until he heard her reply.  He grew more worried watching her eyes fill with water.

She couldn’t imagine how to be done with him.  This magic between them, this star-stuff was much too alive to kill.  Walking away from him would be the equivalent of trying to bury something that hadn’t died.  They’d be haunted for all eternity. 

“No.”  She managed, in a quiet shaky voice. 

Ichabod released a quick breath, relief pumping through his veins as he bowed his head to hers.  His eyes slipped closed in thanksgiving as he sighed a soft kiss to the side of her head.  His hands fell from the wall, and gently cupped her face, as he dabbed another grateful kiss between her brows.  She was still here with him, but he couldn’t figure out how to go from where they were to where he wanted them to be.    

“What can I do to—”  He stopped speaking abruptly, as something came to him.  Abbie had watched a light turn on in his eyes, but now he was backing away.  He stood straight, and raised a finger. 

“Wait here.”  He directed before marching toward the door.  As soon as he reached it he froze in his tracks as if some invisible barrier precluded him from exiting.  He slowly turned back and returned to her.

“I mean, wait here for my return, please.”  He entreated, taking her hand.  The memory of the last time he asked her to wait and left the room still fresh in his mind. “Right here.”  He added before reluctantly letting go.  She smiled as he again turned around in route to the door, making certain she was still there, like she was somehow going to magically disappear if he took his eyes off of her.

“Still here.”  She teased when he looked back the third time, he smiled and disappeared from view.  

Abbie stepped her legs forward a bit in order to lean more of her weight against the wall.  She heard him running down the stairs and wondered what he was up to.  She rested her eyes while she waited, body growing heavy as the day’s events began catching up with her. 

A bit later she’d heard his footsteps on the stairs, but lazily kept her eyes closed enjoying every second of the restful quiet.  But when she never heard him reenter the room her eyes pulled open in search of him.  The search was short, and the first thing her eyes saw was his large frame filling the doorway.  She couldn’t recall him ever looking more handsome, tufts of hair slipped from his ponytail in a way that it normally only did after a full day’s wear.  _And my God his eyes are actually sparkling_.  He stood tall and silent in a light that seemed to come from every direction, and everything he was to her was realized all at once.   Her eyes dropped to the black heels dangling from his fingertips.  She bit her lip to stop it from trembling and quickly averted her gaze, tearfully looking off across the room.  The apology in his eyes was a bit much for her to take in, just seeing it made her hyper aware of how vulnerable she was with him. 

Still Ichabod didn’t come in right away, he stood in the doorway considering her, wondering how any mirror could ever reflect what he saw when he looked at her.  There was no device created with a prayer of capturing who she was, and all the grace she contained.  Her eyes remained trained upon the floor in front of her, and he could sense her growing more emotional with every step he took.  He waited briefly for her to look up, but when she failed to raise her gaze to him he crouched to his knees, and eased back on his haunches, effectively lowering himself into it.  He looked up at her, her small hands wiped away a few tears before pressing against her eyes to subdue any more from forming.

 His calloused palm slipped behind her knee, and down her calf, pulling her bare foot from the ground and bringing it to his lips.  He pressed a warm kiss to her toes that travelled directly to her heart.  Abbie struggled to keep the water inside of her eyes from spilling over as he gently guided her foot into her shoe before repeating the steps with the other one.  With her feet securely returned to the ground he raised to his knees and wrapped his arms around her, her hands slipped through his locks.    

“Forgive me.”  He pled in a quiet tone.  She nodded, and his chest tightened in agony as her cool tears dropped against his upturned face. 

He could never get over how much he hated to see her cry. He placed a foot to the ground and straightened to his full height, swapping gazes with her in the process, now his lowered while hers lifted.    

“I was wrong to say the things I said back at the office.”  He admitted, arms coiled around her knowing if his touch provided her with even a fraction of the security, and comfort hers gave him, she would be at peace. 

“I see and appreciate all that you do Abigail.  The security and protection you provide in service of so many others.  How diligently you pursue justice, no matter what danger comes with it, it worries and impresses me all in the same breath.”  He soberly admitted.  “I could never find words with a prayer of adequately relaying all of the joy that you bring to my life, all of the joy that you bring to the children’s lives…how perfectly you care for them, _our family_.”  He emphasized, squeezing her a little tighter. 

“No one could ever dream of replacing you…of standing in your shoes.”  He whispered. “And I will be willfully branded a fool for ever saying anything that encouraged you to think I believed anything to the contrary.” He breathed, caressing her face.

“You stand and breathe in an air all of your own, and I believe you are aware of that.  If I am crass it is merely because I am quite aware of it as well, and your absence from my life wounds me like the piercing of a thousand blades.  Each day I feel as though it could not possibly hurt any worse, and the next morning when the sun rises without you in my arms I am a proven fool.  I feel as though I am trapped inside of a constant fall, but there is no bottom Apple.”   He shakily admits, eyes heavily reddened and watery. 

He thought to tell her how he hadn’t felt this way in years.  It is a certain unmistakable sort of pain, a feeling almost that he’d been thrown away.  He remembered it well from the way he’d felt when his father disavowed him.  His mother’s efforts to mend things between the two of them only served to place a strain upon his parent’s relationship so much so that Ichabod made a decision to cease all contact.  He remembered thinking then he couldn’t have been more alone, and that particular sort of loneliness, loneliness for a true home, never left him.  At least not until he met Abbie, and together with her created a new one.  But when he lost her, it was even worse than before.

Abbie looked up at the tears and pain he held back and felt a fresh crop of her own spill over.  He thumbed away the wetness springing from her eyes.  Following the damp spots with his lips.

“There is no bottom to this pain I feel, I need you.”  He stated brokenly.  “I am drowning without you.”  He whispered as his lips fell to hers, the tenderness they brought with them closed her eyes on impact. 

Abbie whimpered beneath his wet soft lips, stretching herself up to meet them continuously.  Listening as he repeated how much he needed her every time he managed a breath.  And just like that, she was lost in him.  When his arms locked and tightened around her it became clear that somewhere in his process of tearing down her walls he had become one.  Come hell or high water he was always ready to defend her, and she flowered inside of his protection. 

His love, in its truest form, felt like a mix between the excitement of running towards a hundred foot cliff at full speed, and the security of knowing he would never let her go over.  He proved it over and over again.  She had always been bold, but his love afforded her a sort of comfort and recklessness she hadn’t known before.  It dizzied her.  He became another someone to look after her, and the tiny moments she was allowed relief from looking after herself changed the anatomy of who she was.  The world received a looser, less constrained, happier Abbie because of him.  An Abbie who allowed herself more than one drink at a social outing, because she knew he would see her home.  An Abbie who ushered her sister toward the idea of love, instead of cautioning her away from it.  An Abbie who decided, maybe, just maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to bring a child into this world.  She’d thought of a million different ways to tell him how he’d changed her, why she could never be done with him, but the words never felt right. 

“This is killing me.”  She heard his velvet voice whisper between the soft clicks and smacks of their lips coming together. 

“Being somewhere that you are not.  Waking from slumber and reaching for you, because…just a moment before you were there at my side, and suddenly, you’re gone.”  Ichabod pulled back a bit, swallowing the lump in the back of his throat to ward off his tears. 

“It feels so unquestionably real at times, I can hear your voice in my ear, or feel you in my arms.  I even taste you in my dreams Apple, I taste you…and then I wake with empty arms.”  He informed her, heartbroken.

“That is the manner in which my day begins—each day—and if by some magical anomaly I am managing to make it through my day without this constant yearning for you, some random soul behind a register at the pharmacy, or bank, or café, or wherever asks me if there is anything additional that I require, anything that I need…and then it’s 6am all over again.  And I need you.  I need to be with my wife.”

Abbie quietly wept, reeling from the devastation she heard in his voice.

“That’s what I want more than anything.”  She cried, sniffling as her fingers cupped his face.  She nodded her head at the combination of hope and disbelief streaking through his eyes.  She broke down right then and there, and everything she’d been going through came choking out.

“I’ve been trying really hard to be strong and do what I thought was best for everyone, but it isn’t working.  Nothing is working or feels right without you here, and I cannot explain to you how much I hate it.  I thought that this would help, but I don’t know that Jeremy’s any better off than he would be, and I’m so sad, almost _all_ of the time.”  She quietly sobbed, voice growing hoarser as she tried to get control of it. 

“And I don’t want it to be like this anymore, and I don’t _want_ you to fuck other women,”  She cried popping him in the shoulder, “Are you fucking crazy!”  She asked, voice breaking with emotion.  Ichabod was completely stunned and dumbfounded.

“Other wha—Abbie?!  What in God’s world, what would give you such an idea?  Am I,”  He stuttered, pointing to himself, “Am _I_ crazy?”  He asked, genuinely wondering if he was.  He’d never thought about sleeping with other women, but clearly she believed otherwise. 

“Apple I would never think of it.  What is the cause of this, have I done something to make you believe these things?”  He asked, amazed by this new level of fragility she’d revealed to him. 

“You said,” Abbie sniffled and cleared her throat working to remove the emotion from her voice.  “You said that I was doing what I needed to do as far as, moving on, and then you told me to rest assured that you were going to do the same.”  She stated, eyes growing sad with the memory of it. 

“Like what the hell was that supposed to mean?”  She sniffled, slapping his shoulder as she tried to take a breath.

Ichabod stood still a beat, waiting for her to produce the information she’d used to base her assumption upon.  It took him a moment to understand he’d just heard it.

“Is that—is that all?”  He asked, taking her hand in his.  “That is what I said that caused you to believe that I intended to take up with other women?”  He questioned, still very much confused.   

“Crane.”  She stated, tone warning that she wasn’t to be toyed with, but then she watched his eyes widen, and started to feel a little silly and defensive.  Maybe she’d gotten it wrong.  

“Well when you said it—the way you said it you looked so, I don’t know, pissed and done.”  Abbie said, beginning to feel sillier by the second in sight of the confused expression on his face.  “Okay.  All I can tell you is how it felt, and it felt like a threat, it felt like an I’ll show you type of thing, and it really...” 

She sealed her lips and frowned up at him, not wanting to finish the sentence but it didn’t matter he could work it out for himself.  It hurt her.

“I was upset,” He quickly informed her.  “Still it is no excuse for the tone I took with you, especially when the bulk of my anger was directed at myself.”  He said shaking his head, a puff of air flew out of his nostrils.

“What?”

“Clearly there are things I’d been taking for granted.  Chiefly among which was your knowledge of my devotion to you. You came to the office with a suspicion, and you can protest that you did not, but I understand you well enough to know that even though it was not your primary cause for visiting, even if it wasn’t conscious, there was a curiosity there.  The fact that you felt the need to do so is a failing on my behalf.”  He continued, placing a gentle caress to her face.  He wondered how he could have all that he had in front of him, and not make it clear beyond a shadow of a doubt that he understood how lucky he was. 

“Had I been all that I should have been then you would have known that you never need to leave this house to find out where my heart is.  When you are here, it is here, the moment you walk out of the door it travels with you.  It is _always_ _with you_.”  He quietly asserted, fingers dropping to her waist.  “How can I show you that?”

Abbie took a shaky breath. “You could come home.” She offered, tears spilling down her face as she looked up at him.  “It doesn’t have to be today, or even this week, but” Her lips quivered as she pled.  “Last night when we were talking, that was what I wanted to ask you…to come home.”

Ichabod heard her voice but still couldn’t quite believe his ears as he gazed down at her.

The small bit of silence created an anxiety in her, it was easy enough for her to recognize that his homecoming might be easier said than done.  Her nerves took over, prompting her to speak rapidly as she tried to explain all of the reasons that it might be okay for him to return home before he could offer even one why it might not.    

“I know you might not be able to right away because of J, and I know you probably need to talk to his psychologist and make sure things are done in the best possible way to protect him, but I mean honestly he’s here all of the time anyway—and I _love_ having him here don’t misunderstand that—I’m just thinking that because he already does spend so much time here, maybe it won’t be so hard to work out a schedule with Katrina that you can both agree on, and,”  She pauses through a sniffle, “maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal if you didn’t technically live in the same house as him.  And then maybe I wouldn’t feel like I was taking something away from you by being with you because…because I can’t not be with you Crane, it doesn’t work.”

“—Abbie,” Ichabod took her chin between his fingers as he lowered his head to rest against hers.

“You are giving me everything.”  He declared.  “Your being with me gives me everything.  And as far as my return home…how’s now?”  He asked, wondering if she truly believed that he would ever have her wait.  Gaging from the relief he heard in the breath she took in, she did.  Abbie swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Really?”  She snuffled, raising her arms around his neck.  Ichabod was felled by how adorable uncertainty sounded in her voice.

“Really.”  He laughingly confirmed, tightening his grip around her and drawing her to his chest as he silently thanked God that his prayers had been answered. 

“Did you honestly imagine that I might say no?”  He asked, dropping a quick kiss to her forehead, as he delicately drug his fingers through her braids. 

“Actually I had a dream, more like a nightmare that you said just that, well in so many words.” She admitted, “I asked you to come home and, you were with someone else.  Waking up that morning was...” she shook her head and sighed, eyes revealing how terrible she’d felt upon having the dream that she’d chased him down to ask him to come home, and he was held up with some woman.  “I’ve had better days.”  She relayed. 

“Forgive my manners, but the me of your dreams sounds like an unmitigated imbecile.  Further I’d like to go on record in stating that I no longer wish for him to represent my interest.  In fact, I think it best you never listen to him again.” 

Abbie’s chuckle bent her head forward, and Ichabod seized the opportunity to anoint the side of her head with worshipful kisses. 

“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute.”  Abbie mused.

“Is he?”  Ichabod asked in that bass filled voice that flared her nostrils.

“Uh-huh.”  She replied, loosely pulling at his tie, until he bent to accept her tiny delightful kisses.   Ichabod was so overjoyed he could hardly catch his breath.  He regarded her through rapid blinks he hoped would obscure the liquid covering his eyes, but he knew she could read his emotion.  If not in his eyes, then surely in his skin.  He could easily feel how flushed his face had become.

“I love you so very much.”  He declared, encasing her in his arms as a million prayers of gratitude bounced through his spirit.  “None of this matters without you.”  


There was a joyful glint in his eyes, and a slight upward bend in his lips, but she could tell that he was still hurt.  Though he’d never say it, she knew that she wasn’t the only one with abandonment issues.  Still after weeks of a separation that he’d begged, and fought against, she asked him to come home, and he said yes without hesitation.  He was so eager to get past this.  A little part of her knew that had the roles been reversed she wouldn’t have been so quick to accept his invitation.  But at the same time a part of her also knew that if she had an ex and a child show up out of the blue, stepping aside would be the last thing he’d consider doing.  They loved so differently from one another, and still…it worked.

“I’m sorry.”  She slowly whispered with a soft caress of his cheek, vowing then and there to never send him away again. “I’m so sorry baby.”  She repeated, as he nodded his head, letting her know he understood what she meant.  She could have said more, but knew he was sensitive about the issue and chose not to. 

Ichabod knew she understood how he felt, they had discussed at length the pain he’d endured when his father disowned him.  She didn’t have to say it, just seeing the recognition in her eyes further cemented their bond.

“I’m going to make it up to you alright.”  She swore.  “I don’t know how but I’m going to do whatever it takes.” 

“This” He says constricting his arms around her, “Is all that I shall ever require of you.  Simply be with me Abbie.  Hold me when I’m weary, kiss me when I wake…and love me until my final breath.”

He squeezed her close, and bowed his head filling his lungs with her breath.  Abbie blinked slowly, mindlessly rubbing the edge of his button up between her fingertips. 

“Is that all?”  She replied, lashes hanging low in anticipation of his kiss.  Her voice was quiet, nothing beyond a breathless whisper, one Ichabod found so intoxicating he leaned in and suckled it right off of her lips.  Abbie knew she was still in the same location, half slunk against her bedroom wall, but still couldn’t overcome the far away feeling that rippled through her veins.  All six foot one of her husband leaned over her, dropping his head, taking and giving kisses as he pleased.  The house was quiet, and so empty it felt like the air was moving through it untouched, every caress lasted longer, felt deeper, and tingled more than the one before it.  It felt odd, the two of them being there in the middle of the day when all of the world was at work.  Peaceful tranquility swirled through the halls around them, and it almost seemed like a secret, time pilfered away from the things they should have been doing.  In that moment they were the only things in the world.  

The light eclipsing the windows glowed all around the room, intensifying the feeling of paradisiacal seclusion.  Abbie sighed against his lips, over-indulging in his honeyed kisses as her hands freed his button up and undershirt from his suit pants.      

Ichabod couldn’t keep his lips off of her, but he tried to long enough to tell her how beautiful she was, and how terribly he wanted her.  His voracious tone rung in her ears, and embezzled its way into her pulse, thumping up her attraction to near unmanageable proportions.  He widened his stance, searching for room his trousers no longer had.  His shortened frame squeezed her tight enough to let her feel how hard he was.  As if she didn’t already know.  As if the dark longing in his eyes wasn’t enough to cue her in.  As if she hadn’t already been crawling out of her skin from the press of his dick against her center. 

Every kiss he levied against her lips reminded her of the way he’d loved her even when they were apart, gently but thoroughly.  The nightly texts just to check on her, cleaning and gassing up her car, the yard-work, the emergency money in her cookie jar she’d yet to have a chance to chew him out about.  She still wasn’t happy about him paying off the house but she understood why he did it, it was the type of person he was.  She wondered if he had any clue of how good it felt—his love, she wondered if he had any idea how badly she ached for him and how much love she was prepared to give him in return.

Her lips pressed into his neck the moment she untied his tie.  He replied by carefully tracing her rear with his palms.  The second he finally squeezed it, a low anguish filled moan slipped from the back of his throat and Abbie swore she actually felt his mouth water.  Suddenly the idea of finessing his shirt open became a memory, buttons flew everywhere, clacking and pinging against this and that as they scattered across around the room.  She grew gluttonous in her desire for him, her tongue and lips joined in tandem sucking the flesh at the hollow of his throat as she drug his shirt down his arms.  His undershirt wasn’t far behind it, and a continuous crop of shivers erupted when her lips drug moist kisses against his chest.   

Ichabod nudged her chin skyward, delicately nibbling her lips as he rejoined their forms.

“May I?”  He murmured, fingertips slipping up the back of her bun.  Abbie nodded and raised her hands to help him let down her hair.  He stood still a moment, leaning back and just watching her.  The wonderment painted in his eyes made her feel like the most beautiful creature in the world.  After uncoiling her bun, Abbie carefully removed the hairband she’d formed her ponytail with, Ichabod’s eyes watched her with attentive fascination, and she knew then she would never have to show him how to let her braids down again.  He gently stroked her hair, pushing a few of her braids away from her face before slipping his fingers up through the back of them and bringing her lips back to his.  He dipped down sucking the flesh against the side of her neck, and though she knew he was leaving marks, it felt too damn good to make him stop. 

His touch always had that power over her, overthrowing her mind with the things he so easily did to her body.  He’d barely laid a finger on her and already she was dripping down her thighs.  She could blame it on a lot of things, the pregnancy certainly had her feeling juicier than usual down there.  But all things being equal she’s been around him long enough to know that his presence was the primary factor that caused this to happen.  Back at his office she had gotten so wet that she worried she was spotting.  She popped into his bathroom before leaving and realized she wasn’t.  She was simultaneously flooded with relieved and embarrassment.  Even now her thighs shook from anticipation as his fingertips drug along the hem of her t-shirt.         

“Did you miss me?”  He whispered, fingertips warm and nimble as they grabbed hold of her just below her inner thighs. 

His soft kisses grew passionate before she had a chance to answer, but she gave it a go, enthusiastically moaning her reply into his mouth.  It made absolutely no sense, the same man who irritated all hell out of her earlier was now systematically unraveling her.  She was positive that his hands between her thighs were the only thing keeping her knees from knocking together.  The air grew dense and harder to breathe as his thumbs inched up the supple skin of her thighs, the dark twinkle radiating through his eyes lifted quivers from places she didn’t know she had.

“Did Chloe miss me?”  He breathed, low and husky.  He was halfway through a cocky grin when his thumbs slipped across the answer.  He nearly choked on air.

“Christ Apple.”  He muttered, mouth falling open.  She supposed he didn’t need any further confirmation.  The higher he raised his thumbs the wetter she was, but even that hadn’t prepared him for his fingers coming in contact with wet curls instead of fabric.  How she managed to be right here in front of him absent any panties was a mystery.  He chides himself for not being more attentive to it earlier. 

“Your underpants?”  He muttered, noticing the dryness in his mouth, and knowing exactly what he wanted to do to remedy it. 

“I took them off.”  Abbie explained, feeling a little self-conscious.  She lowered her eyes, down and away in an effort to battle a wave of bashfulness brought on from his penetrating gaze. 

“They were…uncomfortable.” _drenched,_ she more accurately recalled, but as far as Abbie was concerned she’d be damned if she told him that.  When she raised her eyes again his gaze was no less intense than the one that caused her to lower them.  He was still glaring at her, eyes absent every ounce of the humanity she was used to finding in them. 

“How so?”  He asked, his deep voice echoing through her and turning on even more.

Abbie swallowed, unknowingly licking her lips.  “They were…damp.”  She admitted. 

“Damp?”  He repeated, brows raising as his interest grew.  “By what cause?”  He asked, leaning forward to brush a row of open mouth kisses down the slope of her neck.  Abbie gasped, cocking her head back.  She was certain from his swaggering tone that he already knew how bad he had her out here, she didn’t need to spell it out for him.  But that seemed to be exactly what he was intent upon making her do.    

In the blink of an eye his fingers had travelled undetected, and caressed the wet seam between her thighs.  He could see how desperate it made her, how erratic and weighty her breathing became as he ghosted a finger along the crease.  Having grown inpatient, Abbie greedily rolled her hips against his palm in an effort to force his motion.   

“Tsk-tsk.”

Ichabod quickly reprimanded, pressing her hips to the wall until she understood that he wouldn’t touch her until she held still.  Her shoulders heaved up and down along the wall, causing a smirk to grow across his face, he could almost feel her annoyance.  It faded when his palm returned to her, touching her even gentler this time.  She tried to repress her whimpers but they found their way out.  Each of them filled with longing and complaint. 

“Crane,”  She mumbled against his lips.  By the sound of it he would have sworn it was going to be followed by a plea, but it never came.  He abandoned her lips, and sucked a trail down her warm neck.  The feel of him just inches away from where she wanted him coupled with the interplay of his tongue and teeth against her skin shot a million tiny chills through her body, and every last one of them settled against her clit. 

_Oh my God, please._ By the time his teeth nipped at her collarbone she was too far gone to realize that the cotton v-neck she was wearing had been tugged down just enough to free her nipple.  

“Crane! Jesus!”  She shuddered, the sensation of his tongue swirling around her nipple forcing her to say his name with two syllables instead of one.  A few seconds later his mouth was to her ear.

“Now tell me, what caused your undergarments to become…damp?”  He queried, stopping his fingers against her closed petals long enough to enjoy watching her tremble. 

Abbie could feel beads of sweat forming at her hairline.  “What do you think Crane?” 

Her retort brought a grin to his lips, and a confidence that bordered on the edge of smugness to his eyes. 

“Tell me what I think.”  He countered, simultaneously pulling her mouth to his and easing a crafty digit between her silky folds. 

Abbie threw her head back against the wall, whimpers spiraling out of her as her body sung his praises.  Each wet messy kiss he placed to her flesh, be it upon her lips, or neck, or the tip of her upturned chin, set her skin aflame and melted her heart.  It used to frighten her this feeling, having liquid for a heart, feeling it trickle into spaces it was never meant to occupy, swelling them with love.  There wasn’t a place on her body that she couldn’t feel her heart beating in, palpitating from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, infusing her with a bliss so wide that she could hardly breathe.  The scary thing is she doesn’t even miss the air.  Because when he goes and she can’t be with him, and she can’t touch him, and be close with him this way, she feels as though she can’t breathe all the same, like she’s suffocating, so she’d rather the deprivation came from this, from his gentle affection, and warm breath rolling against her face, from the pad of his thumb coiling leisurely circles around the nub at the top of her center.

“Why were they wet?”  Ichabod breathed, pulling back enough to remind her that he meant to have an answer.

Abbie was undone.  If his intentions were to have her actually speak, he was going about it all wrong.  One, he’d already returned his tongue to her mouth, and two, every bone in her body trembled like she was stark naked on a three dog night. The more she tried to stop shaking, the harder she shook, and both of them knew her body well enough to know what was coming next.   

Ichabod broke their kiss, and slowly dropped his fingers from her wetness.

“Baby!”  She panted, doing everything she could to catch her breath while her stomach tightened in anguish.  

“—Tell me.”  He whispered, thumbing her jawline, and in the process smearing it with the sweetness still covering his fingers. 

“What do you want from me?”  She breathed, wondering why truths he was already conscious of needed to be spoken. 

Ichabod lowered his lips to her jaw, sucking up traces of the nectar he’d just left there.  “Everything.” He said as if it were nothing.

Abbie was quiet a moment, save the breaths that still came out heavy and uneven. 

“From seeing you.”  She quietly admitted, eyes shimmering with a softness that managed to be both bold and meek.  “They were wet from the moment I saw you today.  From the moment you walked across your office, put your hand behind my back, and kissed my cheek.”  She breathed, done acting as if he didn’t have it like that.  “Is that what you want to hear?  About what you do to me without even trying to.”

There wasn’t enough space inside of his chest for the pride she filled him with.  Ichabod wanted to yank her from the wall and bury himself inside of her, but quickly counseled himself away from his impulses.  Brashness was never the way to make her sing, and she may not have known it yet, but she was going to perform an opera for him here today.  He stood tall, looking down at her through the bottoms of his eyes in that smug little glower that always seemed to reek of haughtiness.  His eyes rolled down her frame, lids lowering with lust as he zeroed in on her stiff nipples poking out the fabric of his shirt.

“I’ve no recollection of your request to borrow my undershirt,” he stated dragging the backside of his finger across her nipple, cock throbbing from the shudders it provoked.  “I’m afraid I must beg its immediate return.”  He teased, holding his hand out between them.  A devilish smile developed across Abbie’s face as she raised the shirt over her head and pulled it free of her body and hair. 

“Oops.”  She smirked, unapologetically eyeing him as the fabric sailed to the flooring between her heels.  Ichabod ever the fast study immediately gleaned her meaning, but instead of dropping to his hunches to please her he hoisted her up the wall and buried his face between her thighs in what felt like one motion. 

Abbie squealed his name, the shock of the blindside rendered her body tense.  Her arms stretched chaotically along the wall grappling for something to hold on to, but the second his tongue found its orbit she settled in, and reached down weaving her fingers through his hair.  She looked down at his crown, gasping as the tenderness she felt for him in that moment brought tears to her eyes. He had her, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never let her fall.  Her legs hung over his shoulders, heels and all, while the steady lap of his tongue pushed her toward ecstasy. Ichabod moaned against her flower as an increase of her nectar slipped across his face, and saturated his beard.  She tasted differently on his tongue, sweeter, but he couldn’t tear his mouth away long enough to tell her.

“Oh my—Oh God!” Abbie sputtered erratically as she dug her fingers into his skull, holding him in place as she moaned through a mind bending orgasm.  She was shaking like crazy when he brought her down, he leaned her weight against the wall, and lavished her with slow heartfelt kisses while her legs came back. 

“You alright?”  He whispered, nearly beside himself with want.  His kisses were loving, patient, and wrought with heart stopping affection but Abbie could still taste his mania pulsing just beneath the surface.  He needed her.     

“You’ve made promises.”  She cooed, running her fingers down his chest.  “I seem to recall something about a proper rod—” Abbie’s tongue lagged the moment her palm came in contact with his hard-on. 

“Ding,” She quietly finished, eyes flaring wide as Ichabod’s slammed shut.  The strangulated noise he made was quite possibly the sexiest thing she’d ever heard in her life, and almost immediately she was desperate to hear it again.

“A rodding.”  She wheezed, breathlessly trying to finish her thought just as Ichabod captured her wrists and slapped them against the wall behind her.

“Fuck!”  She winced, unable to get past how turned on she was just from feeling it.  To think there was a time when she was afraid of it, when she tried to close her legs and move away from it.  Those days were long gone.

Ichabod pressed his lips to hers, dropped his middle finger to her entrance, and instantly felt his knees weaken when her warmth suctioned around the tip of his digit like a wet glove.  

“God’s hooks,” He muttered, unable to stop himself from easing his finger further into her wetness. “What am I to do with you wife?” He sighed against her lips.  Abbie delicately nipped at his lips before sinking a kiss to them that dimmed his vision.   

“Everything.”  She breathed, throwing his words back at him.  She struggled to free her other wrist so she could show him precisely what she meant.  “I want you to do everything with me.”   

Her words made Ichabod appreciate what very little resources he had to contend with all of her blessings.  She was small to be sure, but certainly more than any two handfuls and mouthful could ever hope to contain.  By his measure, too much of her offerings went to waste, such as the juices coating the finger he pulled from her, but was too preoccupied to find the time to suck clean.  Because every second he spent making her come unhinged, unfastened his screws as well, and now he stood completely unwound with all of his nuts and bolts crashing to the floor.  So he needed two hands upon his belt, and two hands unfastening his zipper, and two hands to lift her high enough to take him, because he doubted his ability to breathe again until he was inside of her.  And he would rather keel over and pass out than delay feeling her around his cock for another moment. 

So only after he raises her up does he even think of slowing down, not because he feels anything close to calm or control but because in spite of the lack thereof he loves her too much to ever hurt her, and he was as big as he’d ever been and as hard as steel.  Not to mention it had been so long, and even though her arousal was painting his beard and chest he was conscious that only moments before she grabbed and held but one of his fingers, so taking his cock was going to be a stretch by any measure. 

But the moment he guides himself inside of her, and slowly lowers her down his shaft he’s reminded that stretching her middle was one of his specialties. 

“Fuck Abbie.”  He huffed, realizing how horribly wrong he was about the breathing bit. 

Abbie couldn’t catch a breath either, and the ones she did manage to take did nothing but power a slew of tiny _oh God’s_ , and _oh fuck’s_ that metamorphosed into incomprehensible whimpering and moaning.  One of her shoes never left the ground, and the other was on its way to join it but she couldn’t feel it.  All she could feel was him, this.  The all-consuming nature of their love, like lightning zig-zagging through them on a steady unbroken current, and the world wouldn’t exist again, couldn’t exist again, until this was over.  His wet lips opened against her neck she presumed in an effort to kiss her, but the only thing she can feel is his hot breath as he choked on quiet groans. Ichabod’s huge palms clutched her bottom, and moved her up and down his length in a lung clearing, spine bending fashion.  There was no tempering, nor masking, or repression of emotion because her brain was far too busy trying to recover from sensory overload to bother with fabricating anything.  Everything she felt came out.  A sheen of sweat covered her body as the gratification of being packed full with the thing she’d been praying for him to bring home washed over her.

“Mm-hmm,” He cockily growled, and Abbie almost came instantly.   

She’d heard this particular mm-hmm before and knew that it could be roughly translated as _you asked for a rodding, and look at you now.  Take notice of how I have you, oozing all over my cock, shivering, whining, and scratching from the feel of it._

“Tell me,” Ichabod stated praying to keep his voice stable.  “This rodding,” he continued lowering his head and sucking in a mouthful of her lips, “Is it proper enough for you?”

“Crane!”  Abbie cried out, nails piercing his skin as slick arousal poured out of her.  She felt his shoulders slump beneath her arms as he drew still.

“—Don’t stop!”  She pleaded, body going haywire from the release she felt just a few strokes away.  “Please don’t stop!”  She purred, tightening her legs around him. 

“Not yet.”  He decided, pulling out of her. 

“Baby!  What, why?!”  She griped, ready to absolute die.

He could have told her the truth. That he had waited far too long for this moment to let it pass by so quickly.  That if he stayed inside of her for a split second longer he would have exploded.  That he did, in fact, have a bit of pride left and he couldn’t very well make a comment about proffering a proper rodding and then expire in the very next breath.  He could have explained a lot but he didn’t. 

“Because I said.”  He chooses to say instead, softening the harshness in his tone by kissing her on the lips as he placed her back to the wall.  She’d told him before how much she hated his arrogance, but Abbie wondered if he knew the reason was because of how disarmingly attractive she found it on him.  His ego was as big as his dick, and both of them were exactly the sort of things she ran from in the past.  But luckily his heart outsized them both.  It was the only thing that made her take a chance on him.

“But baby please.”  She begged, sinking into his kisses.  She knew the real reason for the break, the reason why now they were limited to kissing instead of making love.  After all, it wasn’t the first time he’d almost shit-talked himself into a premature nut.      

He kept her arousal at a high level, and the steel she felt protruding against her belly told her it was much the same for him.  He was always a pro at diverting her attention, so when his fingers subtly drifted from her rear and slipped down her thighs she barely noticed.  Meanwhile his moist kisses kept her occupied as his elbows hooked beneath her knees and his palms came to rest flatly on the wall behind her.  Her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, hanging on for dear life as he re-entered her with a groan.  Abbie gasped and cried out his name, nearly dying from how smooth and stiff he felt inside of her, like concrete sheathed in velvet.  Now when he drove forward, her rear slapped into the wall in such a way that she thought it might crack.  If Ichabod shared her concern he didn’t show it, his focus was only on her, stroking into her even more deliberately, following through until the wall voiced it’s complaint, and not stopping until he heard that little mewl she emitted every time he stretched her past her limits.  The one that let him know he hit it just right.  What’s more is he didn’t allow her a second to recover, the moment he pulled back he drove forward again rhythmically taking her apart.     

Abbie was in the blind.

And it didn’t take long for her to understand that it was his plan all along to seize control.  From the moment she reached for him and he held her wrists to the wall he had set the tone.  _He_ was making love _to_ her, or fucking her, she can’t truly decide which as it all seemed to be a fine line.  All she knew was that she never wanted him to stop.  What she wasn’t quite conscious of was the oxytocin running roughshod through her veins, reinforcing how good it felt, telling her how safe she was with him.  Activating her neurological pathways of pleasure, and reminding her how deeply she loved him, strengthening her trust of him while simultaneously blocking all notions of pain.   

He slowed down after a minute catching her lips in wet noisy kisses and softening the speed and power of his thrust.  He eased forward trapping her soft body between his hardened frame and the wall, blanketing her with a continuous pressure that made her feel as though she was going to explode.     

Now his lips were like feathers against her neck, issuing out tender heartfelt kisses that lasted three times as long as they normally did. 

“Do you understand how much I love you.”  He carefully whispered, and even though it was a question, she knew it was a statement.  “Adore you.”  He added, moving his hips in a way that should have been outlawed.  A low whine slipped from Abbie’s lips and he nearly lost his rhythm.    

“Is this not what you’ve asked for Apple?”  He gasped, slowly but surely transitioning from a grinding to an in and out motion that shattered her spirit.

“Hmm?”  He growled when she couldn’t intelligibly respond, deepening his thrusts, as if more good dick was actual punishment for her inability to speak something besides gibberish. His warm face pressed against hers as his voice fell to a whisper.  

“Shh, then keep quiet and take it.”  He panted with a kiss he should have known didn’t have a prayer of surviving her screams. 

There wasn’t a lot Abbie knew in that moment, for example she didn’t know how to keep herself from hollering, and though her life was flashing right before her eyes she didn’t know if it was actually possible for her to die from dick.  If she was being one hundred, she didn’t even know her name.  What she did know was that every single stroke from his cock was taking her well past her previously defined limits, and her soul was mirroring the same action, stretching beyond her body because the love she felt in that moment seemed far too expansive for it to hold.  She’d never been more immersed in a moment in her life, and though a part of her felt like she surrendered herself to it, like she’d surrendered herself to him, it was clear that wasn’t the whole truth.  Because even though he’d told her to take it, it felt like he was the one doing all of the taking.  Every time he pushed in he took a little more of her and claimed it as his own, claimed dominion over it, and it wasn’t long before everything had been yielded to him.  Her damp form went slack against the wall as her limbs were not only useless, but foreign, like things in her possession that didn’t actually belong to her.

Her wetness gushed and tightened around him grabbing his dick like it was the only joy she had ever known, and Ichabod, too long removed from what she did to him, faltered near instantaneously.  Sweat dripped from his pores as he tried to find the strength to keep giving her what she deserved when the only thing he wanted to do was stay deep and release.  A slew of minced oaths barreled from his chest, joining with her moans like an overture to the melodies to follow.  His love for her, and unbending desire to please her were the only things that kept him from succumbing.  He pushed himself to deliver every stroke as righteously as the one before it, driving her backside into the wall again and again.   He kissed her softly and held her tight, ricocheting through delirium as she drew snug around him.  She milked every drop of pent up lust from his flesh while their bodies shook with what felt like all of the universe’s glory.     

A few minutes later they lay spread out across the bed, both of their bodies heavily sheened with sweat.  They lay engrossed in a reflective quiet, neither one of them finding the strength to speak or move since he’d laid them down.  It was Ichabod who went first, reaching out and cradling her soft body to his side.  The trembles his touch elicited told her that it was too soon, but she let him anyway.  He dropped a few kisses to her head, which immediately intensified her aftershocks and caused her to plaster her thighs together.        

“You’re quite quiet.”  He observed, after a little while.  He angled his head to look down at her while softly dragging his fingers up and down her back.

“Well you essentially told me to shut up.”  She joked, causing them both to chuckle.

“Reverse psychology.”  Ichabod beamed, stealing another kiss.  “I love it when you sing for me.”  He added, heart still pumping with pride.

“I.”  Abbie cleared her throat, still not completely returned to earth.  “Was it always like that?”  She asked, eyes raising to his. She immediately turned her head, hiding a closed lipped smile brought on from the way he was looking at her.  Like she was too good to be true, like she could walk on water, and place the stars into alignment…she knows the feeling.

“It was.”  He responded, confidence painting his tone as he kissed her temple. “At least for me.”  He added, “Which is why I always say”

Abbie chuckled before he could finish his sentence, and completed it for him. “—Why do we not do this more often.”  She smiled, laughing because he said that even during the times they had sex every day.  

“Speaking of which,” he said, slipping from beneath her and turning onto his stomach, “In retrospect of your making things up to me I’d like to add an addendum.” 

“Oh you’re just gonna milk this for everything it’s worth huh?”  Abbie chuckled, reaching out to play with his hair.

“I’m no fool.”  He joked, winning a humorous grin.

“Alright, alright, alright.”  Abbie said, “What is it that I can do to make things up to you?” 

“Well, to begin with I propose that whatever disagreement you and I share in the future, Chloe be left out of it.  I think today’s events are evidence that our estrangement was terribly unfair to her, and it certainly wasn’t fair to me.

“How did I know you were on some bullshit before you even opened your mouth?”  Abbie laughed.  She pulled the pillow from beneath her head and clocked him with it.  He quietly chuckled through the contact, and tossed the pillow to the floor. 

“You should be made aware I am asking on behalf of Chloe,” he continued raising a pointer finger, “A simple verbal acknowledgment or promise that in the future the three of us will be afforded equal say in the face of any decision making processes.”   

“Oh is that all.”  Abbie rolled her eyes, clearly amused.  “I feel like I just promised in about five different octaves.”  She reminded him, covering her face with her hands as she thought about how loud she was.  Ichabod pulled her hands from her face, and kissed her lips. 

“My ears have known no sweeter sound.”

“Aww.”  She smiled, lifting her lips to his.  In that case, I suppose I could do it again.  I mean if my first promise wasn’t sufficient.”

“Oh.”  Ichabod grinned, getting the loose idea.  “It was _wholly_ , _wholly_ , insufficient.  We may need to seal this accord upon several, several more occasions today.  And I can hardly imagine what promises the morrow might bring.”

“I bet.”  Abbie smirked.  She lifted herself up and crawled over the top of him. His palms slid up her thighs as he lay back against the mattress.

Ichabod knew that she understood that he was simply teasing.  He wondered though if she knew that she had given him enough love to last a lifetime and he would never really make such a request of her.  Her fingers toyed with his long locks as she dropped a kiss to his lips.

“Really though, I don’t know about this equal rights thing.”  She stated, laying her head on his chest.  “The two of you would just gang up on me.” 

Ichabod wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the heavenly tingles that came from embracing her.

“Lieutenant, there’s no need to be jealous of the bond Chloe and I share, after all it is you that has my heart, she simply has _everything_ else.”  He teased.

“I believe it,” Abbie chuckled against his chest, before raising her head to look at him.  “She’s been a mess since you left you know.”  She sighed, weaving her fingers through his hair. 

“Has she?”  Ichabod asked, playfully lifting his eyebrow.  “Oh do share.”

“No!”  Abbie argued.  “I’ve think I’ve shared enough today.”  He placed his fingertips to her side. 

“Don’t make me do it.”  He playfully threatened.  Abbie’s eyes narrowed.

“You wouldn’t.”

“You are leaving me with no other options.  If I must tickle it out of you I will.”  He stated, giving her a quick tickle in preview.

“No! Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.”  Abbie yelped, eyes bulging from her head in fear.  “I hate that.”  She complained.

“Spill it.”

“I don’t know, she was just, doing weird things like…not calming down when I asked her to, or drooling all over herself whenever you were within five feet.”  Abbie admitted.  “Like today.”

Ichabod’s smile lit up. 

“It’s not cute.”  Abbie said, but she knew she’d never convince him of that.

“I find it adorable.”  He maintained, completely ignoring her summation of the issue.

“I don’t know what you did to her,” Abbie said, sitting up straight, “but she doesn’t listen to me anymore.  You’re like some kind of weird pussy whisperer or something.” She joked, tucking a few braids behind her ear.

Ichabod’s face cracked and went red at the same time.  All movement in his chest froze, as his mouth hung open. 

“Miss Mills!”  He exclaimed through a smile nearly as wide as his eyes.  Abbie felt a small rush of embarrassment from saying the word, but she didn’t know why.  It was just something she didn’t normally say so it sounded odd coming from her mouth.  The fact that she’d blurted it out was another testament as to how unedited she was with him.   

“Miss Mills!”  She returned.  “Oh I can’t be Mrs. Crane and say pussy huh?”

“Oh to the contrary my dear wife, it is the only word I ever wish to hear you speak again.”  He joked, sitting up and wrapping his arms around her waist.  “In fact if it is not etched upon my tombstone in giant bold letters, I’m coming back from the dead to haunt you.”  He continued stretching out his hand as if he were actually visualizing the spacing of the words.  “I can see it now, Here lies Ichabod Crane, Husband, Hero, Pussy Whisperer.”  He laughed, rapidly losing breath.  

“I hate you.” Abbie howled, holding back tears.

“I know.”  He chuckled after catching his breath, the joy of being with her this way winding through his frame.  His voice took on a more serious tone as their laughter wound down.  “I love how you hate me.”  He said.  “Never stop.”

In the blink of an eye the tears of laughter behind her eyes, turned into tears of joy. 

“I won’t.”  She promised, before cuddling him close and pressing her lips to his. 

When their kisses grew heated, Abbie tried to slow things down and remove herself from his arms.  The moisture between her thighs was out of control and she wanted to check it out and make sure everything was okay down there.  Earlier, Ichabod’s stomach was saturated with her arousal and it was transparent, but she still kind of wanted to double check.

 “Where pray tell do you suppose you’re going?”  He asked, pulling her back to his lap.

“To the baathrooom!”  She responded, trying to break free.

“Oh no you’re not.”

“I’m not?”  She chuckled, her tone indicating it was news to her.

“No.”  He tightened his arms around her.  “Not without first paying the toll.”

The sound of the doorbell rang through the house, and the two of them froze, each gazing at the other with playful, curious eyes.  Abbie placed her forefinger to her lips.

“Shhh,” She whispered, “Maybe they’ll go away.” 

When the bell sounded again, she chuckled into the crux of her husband’s neck accepting defeat.  She reached over and pulled her phone off of the nightstand.  

“No one called.  You?”  Ichabod pulled himself up, and staggered over to the pile of clothes on the floor, smiling as his wife whistled at him.  He looked down at his notifications after drawing his phone from his jacket pocket. 

“No.”  He shook his head.  “None that would be at the door.”

“I think they’ve gone,” He said wishfully, listening out as Abbie lay on her side letting her eyes crawl over his naked form.  He took delight and her gaze and leisurely started towards the bed with all sorts of naughty intentions in mind. 

Their neighbors Mr. and Mrs. Harold & Loretta Williams stood on the other side of the door bickering back and forth. 

“Rita can we go home, I’m telling you they don’t want to be bothered?” Harold argued.  “Every time you watch Investigation Discovery you think someone’s committing a crime.”  

“I heard screaming, loud screaming, clear as day when I was in the garden.”  Loretta maintained, as she pulled her scarf from around her neck and tucked it into her pocket with her gardening gloves. 

“Now Abbie don’t never have that kind of ruckus going on around here, especially when the kids aren’t even home.” 

“That doesn’t mean someone’s being murdered woman.” 

“I heard Abbie,” she said pointing up towards the house, “call out to God for help, and I’m not leaving this porch until I see that she gets it.”  She said resolutely.  She stepped closer to her husband, staring up at him as she lowered her voice. 

“Now like I’ve been telling you, they’ve been having problems.  You remember that redhead woman that was staying here, the one they said was a friend of the family.  I reckon her and Mr. Crane must’ve gotten all too friendly because seemed over-night they up and moved out of the house.  I think Abbie caught them messing around and put em’ both out, and good for her.”

“Rita you can reckon anything you like, but no one knows what goes on inside of a marriage, or a household accept for the people in it.” 

“I know he showed back up with that poor sweet child, and left him here for Abbie to look after.  Now what kind of mess is that?”  She asked with astonishment, eyes bugging out of her head.  “Probably from some other woman and marriage he done messed over.  And I’ve seen him watching this house like some lunatic with my own eyes.  I opened the blinds five-thirty in the morning in there he sat, out in his car looking up at this house.  Now I’m telling you, I watched him climb a ladder up into that window, and then a little while later Abbie was screaming.  I don’t like him, and I don’t trust him.  You think he’s good people because he shovels our walkway in the winter but I see through the ruse.”

“You see a lot with that imagination of yours.”  Harold chuckled, giving up with a wave of his hand. 

The second Ichabod’s knee bent to the mattress, and lips touched Abbie’s the vigorous knocking started up. 

“God’s wounds.”  He mumbled against his wife’s smiling lips. 

“Hurry back.”  Abbie cooed.

The knocking continued as he hastily dressed and jogged down the stairs.

“Oh, Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” Ichabod smiled, noticing that only Mr. Williams returned it.  He stepped back, stretching his arm out in invitation of entrance. 

“What a delightful surprise, please do come in.” 

“Thank you, but we really don’t want to disturb you.”  Harold said, as Loretta stepped across the doorway. 

“Come along Harold?”  She said, looking all around as her husband shook his head and reluctantly followed her in.

“May I offer you a drink?”  Ichabod offered. 

“No thanks.”  Loretta flatly replied.  “Is Abbie in?  I need to speak with her about something.”

“Oh.  Yes, yes she is.”  Ichabod stated.  “However she is quite indisposed at the moment, is there something that I might be able to assist you with?”   

Ichabod’s eyebrow lifted as Mrs. Williams shot her husband a knowing look. 

“No.  I’m afraid I must insist upon speaking with her, it’s quite important.”  Loretta held.

“Oh.”  Ichabod said a bit surprised, but not too, for months Mrs. Williams had acted awkwardly toward him.  “In that case please forgive the delay, I shall deliver your message expeditiously.” 

“Satisfied?”  Harold asked, watching Ichabod travel the stairs.  “He’s going up to get her.”

“So he says,” Loretta responded folding her arms across her chest.  “I won’t be satisfied until I lay eyes on her.  You didn’t hear the screams.  I did.  Loud at first, then like someone tried to muffle them out.”  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed a nine and a one in preparation. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m fixin’ to call the police.” 

“She’s a policewoman herself.”

“Good, then they’ll get her fast to see about her.”

A few minutes later, Harold folded his arms and nodded upward as Abbie hurried down the stairs with Ichabod right behind her. 

“Hi, Mr. Williams, afternoon Miss Loretta.”  She said a little breathlessly from rushing.  She pushed her sleeves up her forearms as she stepped over to them.  “Ichabod said you needed to see me.” She smiled.

Mr. Williams looked over at his wife. 

“Yes.  Um.”  Miss Loretta couldn’t remember a time that she’d been so sure and so wrong before.  Never the one to bother with any pretenses or mince words she took Abbie by the arm, led her a few paces away from Ichabod and came right out with it. 

“Well I’ve come to see if you were all right, I heard screaming, I was sure of it.”  She said, quietly.  “I almost rang the police.”

Abbie could have fit her fist inside of her mouth it hung open so wide.  Horror pumped through every square inch of her body as she tried to come up with an excuse on the spot. 

“Oh. Screaming?”  She stalled, playing dumb as her palms grew sweaty.  She quickly glanced at Ichabod but saw that he was too full of some sort of warped sense of accomplishment to be any kind of help.  His face was red, but he looked like he was standing a full three inches taller.

“Oh yeah.”  Abbie said as it she’d just figured it out.  “You know, I rearranged some furniture in my room last week, and I keep forgetting, and I stubbed my toe really, really hard.”

“Your toe?”  Miss Loretta asked, concern blanketing her voice as she looked down. 

“Yes mam.”  Abbie replied, quickly sliding the foot behind her.  I thought it was broken, but I soaked it a lil bit, and it feels better already.  That’s what I was doing.  I mean why I couldn’t come down right away.”  She stammered before looking over in time to see Ichabod’s smug grin.  None of it went unnoticed by Mr. Williams whose own lips curled briefly with amusement. 

_God! Why is this my life?!!!.  NO!_

“Rita, she’s fine.” Harold said.  “We should be going.” 

“Hmmph,”  She hummed, still not quite believing she’d gotten it wrong.  “I suppose so.”  She replied, still looking Abbie up and down. 

Abbie was still mortified but at least they were leaving.  She exhaled a quiet grateful breath and flung her braids back over her shoulder in relief.

“My goodness child, look at all those bruises round’ your neck!  My God, I knew it!”  She turned to Crane.  “What have you done to her?”

“Loretta!”  Harold exclaimed. 

Ichabod’s eyes nearly jumped out of his head.  “I beg your pardon?”  He asked in disbelief.

 “Oh Miss Loretta no.”  Abbie quickly interrupted.  “It’s not what you think.  I, I.”  Abbie started to lie and tell her she’d started using this new soap and broke out in a rash, but after raising three children she knew the woman had seen enough bruises and rashes to easily tell the difference.  It felt like every bone in Abbie’s slid out of her and scattered across the floor.  She didn’t know what was holding her up.  The surface of her skin was on fire, and it took everything in her soul to keep her from jumping into another realm.

“Um.”  She said shakily, and only then did Ichabod come over to rescue her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Williams I can assure you that no harm has nor will come to my wife, by mine nor any other hand.”  Ichabod gazed down at Abbie.  “I’d sooner meet my end than allow something to happen to her.” 

“I know what it looks like mam, but Ichabod,” Loretta scowled at him until Abbie’s touch on her shoulder guided her eyes back to hers, “my husband,”  She added feeling Crane’s hand on her back, “He would never, ever hurt me.  These aren’t bruises.”  Abbie said carrying the older woman along to the truth with her eyes.  She wanted to vomit.

“Oh.”  Miss Loretta exclaimed, just as she realized what they actually were.  “Oh heavens!”  She said, palm flying up to cover her open mouth.  She now had an appreciation for the sheer embarrassment that Abbie felt. 

“Oh, I beg your pardon.”  She pled wringing her hands together.  “I suppose I’ve become a foolish old woman with too much time on her hands.” 

“Oh no mam.”  Abbie said wrapping a hand around hers.  “I can’t tell you how grateful and appreciative I am that you all came to check on me.  It was very brave, and neighborly of you.” 

“Oh I’m sorry to have disturbed you, we should be going Harold.”  She turned back to Abbie.  “You’re still bringing the children by this week to see about piano lessons aren’t you?”  She asked, worrying she had really overstepped her bounds this time.

“Yes mam.”  Abbie nodded.  “I sure am, they’re really looking forward to it.” 

“Wonderful.”  She smiled.  “Mr. Crane.”  She nodded in an even tone.  At least it was a step up from the way she’d said it the last two occasions he’d bumped into her, when it sounded like she wanted to spit on the pavement after saying it.

“Mrs. Williams.”  He politely said before turning to her husband. “Mr. Williams.”

“Young man.” Harold said in a tone that felt like a pat on the back.  He extended his hand and met Crane’s in a firm handshake.  “Alright now, remember I’ll have to get you out on the greens one of these days.”  He said following with an actual pat on the back.

“I eagerly await your invitation.”  Ichabod grinned.  “I warn you I’ve not played in a number of years, although the last time I swung a club my stroke was, quite proficient.”  As soon as the words leave Ichabod’s mouth the older man heard the irony in them but he was far too gentlemanly to outright laugh.  His lips did however bulge and tremble a bit, which seemed to have a similar effect on Ichabod who quickly bowed his head to the floor to hide his distress.  All of it stopped when they caught a glimpse of Abbie and Loretta staring at them, Abbie with her hands folded across her chest, while Loretta’s hands were stitched to her hips.

“Good day Crane.”  Harold said with a wink, before turning to nod at Abbie.  “Good day Mrs. Crane.” 

 

Ichabod lay back in the bed, looking down at Abbie who sat on the bench in front of it, wallowing in self-pity.  Her elbows on her knees, head buried in her hands. 

“I will never live this down.”  She slowly uttered.   

Ichabod smiled, and raised his eyes to the ceiling.  “My name shall reign supreme along these parts for all of time.”  He said, feeling as though he was laying on top of a cape.  _Pussy whisperer indeed._   He thought, basking in glory when Abbie lobbed one of the throw pillows from the bench toward his head. 

“Can you at least pretend like you’re not overjoyed about this?”  She asked.  “Crane!” 

“Abbie.”  He pled, raising to his elbows and trying to ease her mind about it.  “Come back to bed.”

“No.” Abbie mumbled, gently nipping the tip of her thumbnail as she shook her head in despair. “We have to move.”  She decided. “There is no other legitimate option I can think of.  Do you understand I will never look at those people again—our neighbors Crane—without thinking about what just happened.” 

“Very well, then we’ll move.  Then will you come back to bed?” 

“This is not a joke.”  She said jumping up and turning to face him.

“Am I joking?”

“Crane.”  Abbie sighed, seeing very clearly that he wasn’t.  “I don’t want to move.  I just…”  Her tone softened.  “What just happened?”  She asked, hands out in front of her like she was holding some giant invisible ball.

Ichabod sat up. “Mrs. Williams, who for some reason suddenly loathes the sight of me, nearly summoned the authorities because you failed to heed my advice.”

“Your advice?”  Abbie asked, bending forward like that would help her understand better. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Treasure, did I not direct you to keep quiet and take it.”  He grinned before breaking into silent laughter.

“Oh my God.”  Abbie whined mortified, holding her hands to her lips in prayer. “Ugh,”  she screamed in frustration.  Ichabod raised his pointer finger.

“That is precisely the sort of outburst that started all of this trouble.”  

 “Come,” Ichabod said, pushing himself up from the bed, “Allow me to help you feel better.”  He added extending his hand.  Abbie smirked and backed away, folding her arms in front of her. 

“You’ve done enough, really.”  She said turning her back to him, only to be confronted with the image of herself in the mirror. 

“Good God.”  She gasped.  “Look at my chest, and my neck.  Crane!  I don’t know if you forgot but I have real life little people that I’m responsible for looking after.  Do you what little people like to do?  Ask questions.  They are amazing at it.  Everything from how far away is the moon, to how old is the Earth?”  Abbie rambled on while Ichabod disrobed and placed his garments on the bench. 

“To hey mom is this dental floss?  And then Jeremy says, it’s a wad of thread, and I have to say, no it’s a tampon.”  Abbie recounted, “Then naturally the next question is what’s a tampon?”  She closed her eyes, gripping one of her hands with the other, “And you have no _idea_ how many questions come after that.”  She complained.  “If you think I can live in a house with those little people with these marks on my neck, and not be questioned about them, you’re kidding yourself.”  She declared.  Ichabod’s arms slipped around her, and gathered her up from behind.  His hands grabbed hold of hers and pried them apart as he pressed kisses to her face.   

“Come here.” He whispered, scooping her from the ground with what seemed like no effort at all.  Abbie dolloped tiny kisses to his face as her carried her back to bed. The moment her body touched the mattress Ichabod went right to work, tugging her out of the clothes she’d thrown on. 

“You needn’t worry.”  He said, comforting her.  “I shall be right beside you helping to answer all of their questions from now on.”

“You will won’t you?”  Abbie remembered as she smiled up at him, smoothing his hair with her fingers.    
“I will.  Now where were we?”  He asked, pressing his palm into the mattress as he crawled over her bare frame.  “Oh yes.”  He murmured wetting her lips with his kisses.  “You were attempting to abandon me in favor of the lavatory.  And I was in the middle of collecting a toll for passage.”

Abbie flipped him over and sat on top of him.

“More like I was in the middle of telling you that you can’t put a levy on the toilet.  You of all people should know that.” 

“Of course I can, there’s a levy upon everything else in this century.”  He maintained, sliding his palms up her thighs. “I hardly doubt anyone would notice.” 

“Oh I see.”  Abbie said.  “So you buy a house and then you expect me to pay you with what, sex to use the bathroom.”  She asked arching an eyebrow, her expression blank enough that he can’t readily decide if she’s serious or jesting.  Abbie watched the quiet alarm grow in his eyes before she offered a small smirk.

“You.”  He admonished pulling her body over the top of his.

“No _you_.”  Abbie shot back, with a kiss.  “Do not think for one moment that we’re finished with that conversation.”

“Are we not?”  He responded, palming her rear. “I certainly feel as though we’ve exhausted it.” 

 “Crane.”  She warned seriously, prompting him to sit up.

“May I speak with her for a moment?”  He asked.

“Babe, seriously.”  Abbie protested.

“Oh no, no, not Chloe, though discourse with her rates chiefly upon my list of most treasured pastimes.”  He said, pushing a few of her braids behind her shoulder.  “I am rather hoping to engage in discussion with the other Abbie.”

“The other Abbie?”  She questioned, face showing a mix of confusion and irritation. 

“Indeed.”  He nodded.  “The one who just a short while ago stood right over there and full on cried at the thought of me bedding another woman.”

Why did he have to take it there?

Ichabod watched her head fall, and reminded himself to proceed carefully.  He didn’t want to say or do anything that might challenge her, or lead her to prove how strong she was, he already knew.

“The one whose love for me superseded her pride and allowed me to see such frailty.”  He softly said, placing a few fingers beneath her chin to raise her gaze to his.  “The one that you protect.”  He added in a quiet breath. 

“I understand that you’re the stronger one, not quite as delicate as she is, the part of you that you struggle so mightily to protect.  I left something unsaid earlier that I shouldn’t have, and I’ve no wish to move so far beyond that moment that I lose my nerve.  I know you…I believe even better than I know myself.  I want you to know always in your heart that by God and all of heaven I will never stray from you…”  He promised staring into her eyes, “But for arguments sake, let us pretend I did.”

Abbie frowned, and pulled back a bit. 

“ _Pretend_ ,” He reiterated, “I said pretend I did.”  He stroked her face with the backside of his palm.  “You would be the one who took her by the hand and walked the two of you out of my life forever.  I understand you, I know why it is that you set the rules that you do, why you say the things you say…but I understand her as well.  Can you deliver a message for me?”  He asked.  He knew Abbie heard him, but she didn’t respond.  When she glanced up and looked him in the eye he knew that was as much of a yes as he could expect to receive from her at the moment. 

“I want you to tell her…that I am her husband.”  He swallowed, eyes glistening with tears.  “And that _means_ something to me.”  He continued steadying his voice.  “You see it is my duty to protect her, and I will do whatever is necessary to see that aim met.  I want you to tell her that I watch her work harder than anyone I have ever known, day in and day out.  And I will not watch her worry over finances.”

“Baby”

“Shh,” He quiets her, fingertips dusting against her lips. “Especially when in the past a fair amount of those finances have gone to my benefit.”  Abbie slipped her hands around his neck, while his arms linked behind her back.  “Tell her that this house and everything inside of it belongs to her, and will remain such until she wishes to obtain another, at which time she merely needs to point and it will be provided.  Tell her everything that is mine is hers, and neither she, nor our children will want for anything.  Ask her to allow me to be that for her.  Her husband.  Her partner.  Ask her not to quibble with me over matters of currency.”  He pleaded leaving a small kiss beneath her lobe before dropping his voice to a whisper.  “Tell her we have things of much greater importance to discuss, such as all the ways in which I intend to make her happy for the rest of our lives.  Can you tell her that for me?”  He said with a soft kiss.  “Alright?”

She stared at him through a watery gaze.  “You don’t have to”

“—Tut-tut”  He interjects, inclining a brow. “Alright?”

“Alright.”  Abbie swallowed.  Ichabod sighed, a relief he hadn’t felt in a long time washed over him as he nestled his head in the crook of her neck. 

“I love you.”  He murmured, breathing her in a bit before dragging his reddened lips across her neck. 

“Ichabod.”  She said, tone ringing with hope.

“Yes Treasure?”  He wheezed, opening his mouth against the underside of her chin and sucking kisses to it. 

“What is it my heart?”  She heard him ask.  She couldn’t decide whether she was shivering from fear or the arousal deepening his voice, but she couldn’t calm down.  More than anything, she wanted to take his hands and place them to her belly, and tell him about the life inside of it, but she’s afraid to move and the words seem too big to come out of her mouth. 

“I”

Abbie’s eyes slipped shut as his mouth closed around her firm nipple.  He sucked at it gently for a few seconds, and brought his face to hers.

“I’m listening.”  He breathed gnawing at her chin.  _Oh no you’re not,_ she thought feeling the outrageous erection raising the sheet between them.     

“I am.”  He intoned, subtly sliding the fabric separating their skin to the side and letting her feel his velvety flesh. 

She knew it didn’t matter whether he was listening or not because as soon as she said the words I’m pregnant she would have his full undivided attention.  So she couldn’t understand why she couldn’t say it, but she could not.  She knew that she felt complete happiness whenever she thought about the baby, and as excited as she was to share that with him, doing so would also compel her to share things she hadn’t yet decided how to share.  He would get over Jenny and Frank knowing before him, but he wouldn’t be happy about it.  Abraham on the other hand, was another issue entirely and things could go unalterably wrong if she didn’t divulge this information in the right way.  But all of it boiled down to one thing, she was afraid.

“I’m so happy you’re home.”  She sighed, saving the news for a later time.

“As am I my love.”  He said, slowly rolling their bodies until she settled beneath him.  “As am I.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later Abbie awoke suddenly.

“Oh my God!” She yelled, flinging herself upright, and jumping out of bed.  “The boys! What was I thinking?”  She panicked, stumbling around the room in search of clothes. 

“Apple?”  Ichabod stated plainly. 

“Oh no!”  She cringed, ignoring him, already imagining their little faces looking on as all of the other kids at day-camp were picked up by responsible parents.  She shimmied into her tights in disbelief she had to leave the house without washing her ass, but it was what it was. 

“Fuck!”

“Apple.” 

“And it’s not like it was something that couldn’t be helped like work, or I don’t know some kind of medical emergency, I was taking a nap.  A NAP!”  She shouted, wanting to die.  She slipped into a t shirt, only to realize she hadn’t bothered with putting on a bra.  Fuck it everybody’s going to be judging me any-damn-way, she decided darting into her closet and returning with tennis shoes. 

“Abbie sit down.” 

“Baby, I don’t have time to sit down, I’m late. D has his lesson, J has a visit with—”

Her voice stilled as her alarm kicked on.  The one she’d set to go off every day thirty minutes before it was time to embark on the fifteen minute trip to pick of the boys.  Ichabod smirked at her from his vantage point on the bed, and reached over to silence the alarm.  It’s only then that she notices he’s fully dressed. 

“Oh my God.”  She exhales, grabbing her heart as the beating slowed down.  “I thought it was late, I thought _I_ was late.”  She said realizing he was supposed to pick them up today anyway. “When did you wake up?”  She asked walking over to him.  “When did you get dressed?” 

“A short bit ago, and after my shower.”  He grinned, wrapping an arm around her as she took a seat next to him.  “Have you been waking this way often?”

_Yes_

“No…well its…”  She sighed, noting that more often than not these days she woke up like the house was on fire.  “I guess I haven’t really been sleeping that hard.  That peacefully.”  She said, as memories of him sending her into a deep sleep came back.  “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”  She sighed, trapping a yawn in her hands. 

“I can come with you if you want.”  She offered, as yet another yawn moved through her and changed her voice.  “Just let me hop in the shower.”

“At no time is your presence unwelcome at my side,”  Ichabod said, guiding her head to his chest and placing a kiss on it, “however, I think it will be best for you to stay home and rest, you seem as though you need it.”

Abbie pulled her head up and cocked it to the side.  “What is that supposed to mean, you sayin’ I look tired, like”  
“—Abbie.”  He said shaking his head.  “I am simply acknowledging that before you hurled yourself out of the bed you were sleeping quite deeply, snoring, rather loudly.”  
“I do not snore.”  She corrected him.

“You were only moments ago.”  He informed her.  “I have stood next to trains passing that were quieter than you just then.”  He added with pulling her closer, but she nudged him away feigning injury. 

That isn’t the whole of it, you were drooling as well, in fact,” He reached over and tried to touch the dried white spot still glued to her cheek.  Abbie whipped her head back.

“I will break all five of those fingers.”  She said slapping his hand away, fingers instantly reaching up to feel the so-called drool on her cheek.  Ichabod pulled his hand back and gripped his chin with a knowing smile.    

_Oh wait a minute, damn_ , Abbie inwardly sulked as the pads of her fingers rubbed over the dry saliva stuck to her face. 

“I don’t think its drool, I think it’s”

“—Drool.”  He happily supplied, leaning forward to open the nightstand drawer. 

“I actually hate you.”  She said, looking over at the smug satisfied look on his face.  He kept searching through the drawer.

“Do what you must to make it through the day.”  He said plainly, brows furrowing at the saltine crackers stashed in the nightstand.  He moved past them and pulled a baby wipe from the container.

“Let us have a look.”  He said settling back into his seat, but twisting his body until he faced her. 

“Uh-un.”  Abbie protested, turning her face. 

“Will I have to pin you down?”  Ichabod asked. 

“You couldn’t if you tried.” 

“Really Lieutenant?  I recall doing just that not too long after we first took domicile here.”  He fondly recalled.  “How could I ever forget your poorly executed attempt to behead me with a feather duster?”  He smiled, heart melting into pieces as he pulled her into his arms.

“Poorly executed?”  Abbie argued, resting her palm across his forehead to check his temp.  “Are you well sweetie, because you and I both know I had the drop on you, had that duster been a sword, it would have been over before it began.”

“And had I not been such a fool…”  He stopped himself, before he told her all of the things he wanted to say and do to her that day, “Well, it worked out in the end.”  He smiled, pushing her back to the top of the bed and clearing the dried drool from her face.  She reached up and gave his beard a soft scratch.

“Yes it did.”  She said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with?” 

Ichabod growled, fighting to keep himself from dragging her out of the house.  “Of course I want you to come with me.  But you need rest, and that’s more important.”  He said, wondering how long her energy had been low.  He wondered if that was the cause for the crackers, did she need extra fuel.  Their presence was curious for a woman who’d raised high hell the few times he’d nibbled on cookies in bed.  She’d even gone so far as to get up and change the sheets in the dead of night, citing an aversion to the crumbs against her skin.

“I’m not even tired.”  She yawned, raising her fists to itch her eyes. 

“Naturally.”  Ichabod deadpanned the moment she reopened them.  She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, and almost instantly another yawn struggled free.

“You’ve been quite active.”  He said, patting his lap in welcome of her feet.  Abbie missed the gesture because she could barely keep her eyes open, so Ichabod simply lifted her legs to his lap and set about removing her shoes. 

“Mmph.”  She hummed when he gave her foot a quick squeeze before raising up just enough to tuck her legs inside of the blanket.      

“Sleep.”  Abbie heard him whisper as his lips touched her forehead.

“Okay…but….don’t forget D has his appointment and J has his less—I mean,”  She paused midsentence bringing her hand to her head as if she could manually unscramble her thoughts. 

“I mean J has his appointment and D has his cello lesson.”  She corrected herself.

“I know what you mean.”  Ichabod gently said, a soft grin creasing his lips as he gazed down at her, watching her thick lashes slip against her skin. The urge to crawl under the blankets and hold her grew every second he sat there, but he wanted to stay there as long as he could.  Just as he stood to leave she jerked awake, eyes flashing open in alarm.   

“Don’t forget D’s cello is downstairs next to the”

“—Door to the laundry.”  He stated, finishing her sentence, reminding her he’d done this before. 

“Okay,” She sighed, and it’s easier to drop J off first, and then D because by the time D’s lesson is over there’s usually only about fifteen minutes left in Jeremy’s session.” 

“Abbie.”   Ichabod growled, bending over her. “Rest, allow me to look after them today.”  He ordered pushing a cluster of her braids from her face.  He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead before dropping his voice to a quiet breath.  “Sleep well Apple, I shall endeavor to return home to you shortly.”

The corners of her mouth curved upward, as she turned to her side and got settled.  A chill slipped through Ichabod’s body, and danced around in the pit of his stomach.  Nothing made him happier than seeing her happy, and looking at her there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she was.  He could nearly see the light in her eyes, even though they remained closed.   

“Was it something I said?”  He breathed, still hunched over her, “Tell me so that I might speak it a thousand times more.”

“Home.”  She groggily sighed, slipping her hand up his neck, as a touch of warmth spread through her.  “You said you were coming home.” 

 

 


End file.
